


Friends for Life

by Norstaera



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Best Friends, Family, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 79
Words: 204,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norstaera/pseuds/Norstaera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You haven't seen each other since you were children. You were best friends then, what happens when you meet up again as adults? A great deal happened between then and now. Resuming your friendship might be easy, but will it be strong enough to survive some surprising revelations? Some chapters will have mature themes/language/content/violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding a Friend

**_Disclaimer:_ ** _Bioware owns Dragon Age and its  characters. I am just glad to be able to play._

_=========================================================================_

She loved being among the flowers. She hated wearing dresses. The pretty 3-year-old was doing both, her silver-blond hair shining like silk in the sunlight. Her Nana-lin, as she called her mother’s mother, was coming for a visit and her mother wanted her to look pretty. Starrelena wanted to find the prettiest flowers to give to her beloved Nana-lin. Excited as she was, she was also being careful not to mess up her dress because it would disappoint her mother, and she knew her mother worked hard to make it, and that new dresses were special, even if she didn’t like to wear them. If she had to wear a dress, at least it wasn’t too frilly, it was comfortable and her favorite color – a deep purple. Her parents looked at her with such pride and love after she put it on that she almost wished she had more.

Starrelena was too busy examining the flowers to see the group of 5- and 6-year-old boys coming into the meadow behind her house. They were laughing about something they had done, pushing and shoving each other the way boys do. They saw her, and formed a circle around her, all of them smiling. However, she knew these boys; they were troublemakers and always teased her. If she had seen them she would have hidden, but now all she could do was keep an eye on them and look for a chance to get away. She would fight them if she had to, but she was still hoping to keep her dress clean. Chances weren’t looking good.

The sturdy 5-year-old boy at the bottom of the path was angry. He knew he was the one who would get in trouble when he got home covered in mud and pie. The other boys close to his age liked to torment him, knowing that if they were just a little careful they could get away with it. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he chased after them even if it meant he got in more trouble. “You’re supposed to be better than that.” “Why can’t you get along with people?” He always got in trouble, It didn’t matter if he was at fault or not.

When he got to the meadow, he saw them. What were they doing in a circle? They started moving around and he saw her. She was standing up, watching them. He was stunned. At first, all he could think was that her hair was like moonbeams, and then realized that he had seen her before, usually with her parents. They always had a kind word for him. The gang of boys were yelling at her now, “stupid girl,” “elf lover,” “brat,” “witch.” She just stood there, glaring, hands clenched around the flowers she was holding. Then one of them pushed her, then another one and another one until she fell on the ground. They started kicking her, and every time she got up, they pushed her down again.

Then the boy got really angry, and charged them. He punched and kicked and hit. At first, they were too surprised that their usual target was fighting back that they just stared at him. Then they forgot about the girl and attacked him. He was so angry he didn’t feel their hits. “Leave her alone!” he shouted.

Those bullies hurt her and ruined her dress. Her parents were going to be so upset. She didn’t know what to think, at first, when she saw the other boy. She watched him charged into the bullies, knocking some of the down. He was defending her! Her dress was already ruined; she wasn’t going to leave her defender alone. She was small, but quick. She tripped them, she threw rocks at them – she was surprisingly accurate. Some of them left, but two remained behind attacking her knight, now down on the ground. She jumped on the back of one and bit him. He tried and tried to get her off, but couldn’t. Meanwhile her knight got up, one eye swollen, lip cut, and tackled the leader. With the odds more even, he got the leader of the gang down and started pounding on him. “You think it’s funny to gang up on someone? To hit a little girl?! It’s NOT!” He gave him one last punch and got up. The bully ran away. He turned to the remaining bully, the girl jumped off his back, and he ran away, too.

The boy and girl looked at each other until she sat down and started to cry. He didn’t know what to do, so he just sat down next to her and patted her shoulder. “I wasn’t supposed to get dirty, Nana-lin’s coming and my parents will be so mad at me,” she sobbed.

“I’ll go with you and tell ‘em what happened,” he offered.

She looked at him, “You w-w-will?” He nodded, noticing that her eyes weren’t grey anymore. They were getting blue. She smiled at him, and really looked at him. She looked at his swollen and bruised eye. “M-mommy always kisses me where it hurts,” and leaned over and kissed his eye. It hurt, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. She smiled at him again, and when he smiled back, she thought the sun came back out. Hand in hand, they walked to her parents’ house.


	2. 17 Years Later

As disturbing as what they just learned from Teagan, Alistair was mulling over _her_ reaction to his birth. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he probably should have said something earlier. What would it have changed, though? Loghain would still have betrayed the king, blamed the wardens and put a bounty on their heads. And it was so nice to pretend, for a little while, that it didn’t matter. It had been a long time since somebody just treated him as _Alistair_. But, he could understand that Elissa was upset, saying something earlier would have been better. They seemed to be getting on so well, he had even been starting to think . . . Well, he’d have to wait and see if their friendship could get past the surprises of the day.

As they left the Chantry, he knew it would be some time before that happened. Elissa, Leliana, Wynne and Sten left to talk to Murdock. He and the _Assassin_ were to check around the village, see what needed to be done and what was available that could help. In other words, stay …out …of …her …way. Fine. With Zevran to his left, he stood on the Chantry porch reviewing the village. It was strange, not seeing the children running around. He could see Lake Calenhad to his right, behind what were probably empty houses and stores. They would have to get inside to see if anything left behind could bolster their defenses. Great, now he was a burglar. As he looked around, he saw Elissa approaching Murdock. Leliana looked behind her and gave them a friendly wave. “At least one person isn’t mad at me,” he brooded.

“Cheer up, Alistair,” Zevran purred, “I am sure our fearless leader won’t be mad at you forever. Maybe I can take her mind off your bad timing.”

“Oh, thank you very much . . ." he would have continued but the archery practice stole his attention. Helping the archers was a tall woman with long blonde hair, moonbeams gathered in a stream ( _where did that thought come from?),_ pulled back in a ponytail and an incredible figure. As she turned towards the Chantry and he saw how beautiful she was, a storm of desire hit him, such as he had never before experienced, and a sense of familiarity he didn’t understand.

Zevran noticed his distraction, “Ah, a vision to stop the gods in their tracks, for sure. If I am not mistaken, she will be coming in this direction. I wonder if she needs my assistance in anything.”

At that moment, she looked up and saw them on the porch. She gave a friendly nod to Zevran, but when she saw Alistair she stopped with a look of surprise on her face, she beamed at him and ran up the steps, throwing her arms around him. Alistair instinctively wrapped his arms around her, she just felt so right, and then he felt her whisper against his neck. “’Stair, I thought I lost you at Ostagar. Thank the Maker and Creators that you survived!”

“Starr?! I can’t believe it . . . You look, wow . . . I mean . . ." Alistair started stuttering and turning red. They let go and just looked at each other, smiling.

Zevran introduced himself, “I am right in thinking you two know each other, yes?” They both turned to look at him and blushed. “I, dear lady, am Zevran Arainai from Antiva, Zev to my friends.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Arainai, I am always ready to meet a friend of ‘Stair’s. I am Starrelena Feyorlin,” smiling, she put her hand out to shake his hand.

Zevran took and turned her hand, kissing the back of it, “I welcome the company of such a beautiful woman, one who must make the gods themselves jealous.” As he spoke, her smile dimmed and a shadow crossed her eyes. She quietly removed her hand.

“Alistair, I know we all have a lot to do, but after the battle I hope we can catch up on the last few years. A lot has happened since we last saw each other and it would be nice to talk to an old friend,” she said. Alistair couldn’t do any more than smile and nod in agreement before she turned away to go back to her work, nodding good day to Zevran. Alistair looked after her before motioning to Zevran they should move. For his part, Zevran looked back momentarily at the beautiful woman, wondering what had put the shadows behind her beautiful eyes, bleeding them from blue to grey.

Catching up to Alistair, he said, “So, Alistair, I hope the power of speech comes back to you before you and your friend talk. Or do you plan on ‘non-verbal communications’ perhaps, hmm?” He looked at Alistair in mock innocence.

Alistair glared back at him, “Oh ha-ha, such wit. I’m surprised you haven’t cut yourself with it.” However, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Zevran meant by ‘non-verbal communication’ and how much he looked forward to seeing Starr again.


	3. Glimpses of a Childhood Past

Walking in silence, Zevran and Alistair began with the houses near the Chantry. The first two houses they checked were empty, at least as far as anything they could use in the upcoming battle. The next house was Kaitlyn’s, a young woman, girl really, they had met in the Chantry who was worried about her younger brother. Bevin had run off, looking for a way to fight the monsters that killed their mom. Alistair smiled a little as they entered; it reminded him of Starr’s home when they were growing up. Her parents frequently invited the lonely little boy to share a meal or some other family activity. This house had the same feeling of closeness, of family, the one thing he always wanted.

Noticing the smile, Zevran chose that moment to begin speaking. “My friend, I admit, you surprise me. Of all people to have a mysterious, beautiful woman in their past, you are the last I would have expected.”

“I don’t, or is this your way of saying that with your _vast_ experience you have dozens of women in your past,” Alistair replied.

“At the very least, and not all women as you should know from the number of times you have rebuffed me. How you have wounded me. I have to ask, is not the beauteous Starr a woman from your past? Considering how you were looking at her, I certainly got the impression you found her very attractive.”

“Well, yes, but she’s not a woman, she’s my friend,” Alistair started to reply, but Zevran interrupted.

“Not a woman? What did they teach you in that Chantry of yours? I assure you she is a woman. Maybe I will not be rebuffed for much longer, hmm?”

Alistair reddened, “That’s not what I meant. And you know it. I mean, yes, she is an incredibly beautiful woman, _now_. She’s a childhood friend from my past; we haven’t seen each other in years. Why do you call her mysterious?”

Zevran smirked, “You haven’t seen her for years, you say. You are not the least bit curious; do you not want to _peel_ away the layers of the intervening events, leaving the mystery _naked_ to your eager gaze?”

“Enough! Don’t talk about her like that,” So saying, he moved ahead, showing Zevran his back. Zevran just smiled and hummed, thinking that Alistair must be flustered to have the _assassin_ at his _back_...

As they neared the bedroom on the first floor, they heard a muffled noise from the armoire in the back. On alert, they stood to the sides of the armoire and then Alistair reached over and opened it. Out stumbled a young boy. “Bevin?” questioned Alistair. The boy nodded. “I’m Alistair, this is Zevran. Your sister is worried about you, what are you doing here?”

“My friend and I want to do something. To help. I thought maybe I could use my father’s sword, but it’s too heavy for me.” Bevin stared down at his feet.

Alistair remembered how bad he felt as a child, when he didn’t have a purpose, wasn’t part of anything, and thought for a minute. He also understood that Bevin wanted to feel he was avenging the death of his mom. The boy wanted to help defend his home, and that was admirable, but he was too young to be out fighting with the men. He thought back to some of the things he and Starr used to do to defend themselves from the bullies that constantly plagued them. “Hmmm, I don’t suppose you and your friend are any good with a catapult?”

Bevin looked at him rather sheepishly, “it depends. The Revered Mother doesn’t think so.”

“Tell you what,” said Alistair, “go back to the Chantry. Once I’m done with preparations for tonight, I’ll come get you two. We’ll go down by the lake and I’ll see what you can do. If you’re good enough, I have an idea. No promises, though. I have to judge your skill, first. Do we have a deal? Meanwhile, one way you can help is to let us use your sword tonight. I promise to give it back when the battle is over.”

“OK,” Bevin replied, after thinking about it for a minute. He gave Alistair the key for the sword and ran back to the Chantry.

After Bevin left, Zevran turned to Alistair. “Alistair, I am normally a practical person, and will consider using anything to achieve my goal. But a child? What, exactly, are you thinking?”

“I’m not going to put him in danger, Zevran. But, his mother is dead and he wants to help defend the village against the creatures that killed her. He’s old enough that he doesn’t feel he needs to be defended like the younger children. I hope I can make him feel that he is helping to _protect_ them by staying in the Chantry, as a backup to Teagan. Maybe it’s a stupid idea, but he doesn’t deserve to feel dismissed.”

_“As you were, perhaps?”_ thought Zevran. Aloud, he said, “We shall see if it is stupid or not, but I respect your attempt. You seemed to handle him well.”

“I, uh, thanks. Let’s, uh, get the sword and move on.” Together they moved on to the next buildings.

Alistair and Zevran started searching empty buildings; Elissa and the rest of the group met Murdock in the center of town. “So,” began Leliana, “this is where Alistair grew up.” She looked around, and thought she saw an echo. “You know, I can almost see him, a little boy running around.”

“It’s waking visions, now, is it?” sneered Morrigan. “Or, since we are talking about the idiot, nightmares are probably a better description.” Leliana began to take umbrage and drew a breath to argue.

“Normally I am sure Redcliffe is a picturesque little town. Have you been here before, Warden?” questioned Wynne, in an attempt to avoid yet another squabble.

Elissa smiled at Wynne in appreciation, “I haven’t. I believe Fergus was here once with Father, but I’m not sure. I agree it is a pretty village.” At that point, they reached Murdock. After discussing the status of the village defense, and what they needed, Elissa directed the others. “Leliana, would you and Wynne go to Lloyd’s Tavern and see if there are any supplies or anything else that would be useful. Take Griffon with you. Sten, Morrigan and I will go talk to Owen and Dwyn. We’ll meet you at the top of the hill, near the windmill before talking to Ser Perth.” As she looked up in that direction, she saw a small figure on the path. For a minute, she too thought she saw a child Alistair. Shrugging her shoulders, she motioned to Morrigan and Sten and turned in the direction of Owen’s blacksmith shop.

While Elissa was talking to Owen, Leliana and Wynne drew near the Tavern. Griffon gave a short bark and started to investigate a shed near the tavern, but Leliana called him back. Wynne saw a young boy rummaging behind the crates, he reminded her of somebody, but she put it out of her mind. She scolded Griffon, they were there to work, not play with any children he might find. The three of them continued into the tavern.  Dealing with Lloyd took a great deal of time, so Leliana suggested Wynne and Griffon go on ahead and meet with the Warden, and they could then come by the tavern after they finished talking with Ser Perth. She might have some information by then.

Elissa and the others finished their conversation with Ser Perth and met Leliana at the tavern. Alistair and Zevran finished searching all the buildings, the only potentially useful thing they found was several barrels of oil in the village store. They headed back to the Chantry. Zevran decided to wait outside for the Warden while Alistair spoke to Bevin. Alistair came out with Bevin, after reassuring Kaitlyn that all would be well. “Zevran, we’re going down to the lake where Bevin’s friend is already waiting. Are you waiting here or are you coming along?”

“Ah, since I do not see the Warden, I will come with you for a little while. Then I shall return and wait for our lovely leader.” Alistair rolled his eyes and off they went, Bevin chattering about his friend.

As they approached the lake, Alistair could see a boy looking out over the lake, much as he used to do with Starr by his side. Bevin ran ahead, and as he got closer, they both turned around to look at him. He was so surprised he stopped short. For a minute, he thought he was looking at himself through the past, or a mirror that only reflected childhood, instead of Bevin’s friend. _“Maker’s breath, looks like history is repeating itself, or maybe it’s like father like son.”_   He moved forward and introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Alistair. Bevin says the two of you want to help fight the monsters.”

“This is my friend, Marcail. He’s even better with a catapult than I am, even if he is younger. He’s only seven. His mother taught him. She’s kind of cool.”

Marcail crossed his arms across his sturdy little chest, “Yeah, but she still wants me to stay in the Chantry like a _baby_ or a _little_ kid.”

“Well, let’s see what you guys can do. First, show me your catapults.” The boys handed him their catapults and Alistair looked them over with a ‘professional’ eye. “Looks like you’ve been taking care of your equipment, that’s important for every soldier.” Marcail relaxed and he and Bevin stood a little straighter, somebody was finally taking them seriously. “Now, go bring back some rocks. I want to see what you see as good ammunition.” The boys started looking at rocks, selecting some and discarding others.

Zevran stood back and watched. He didn’t miss the resemblance between Alistair and Marcail, and he knew Alistair saw it as well. _“Well, this is interesting. I wonder . . ."_ he decided to keep his thoughts to himself, and continued watching Alistair with the boys. He couldn’t help but respect the way Alistair handled them, friendly but with authority. He didn’t patronize or belittle them for wanting to help. He thought it rather a shame he didn’t carry some of that attitude into his dealings with adults.

Once each boy had a stockpile of rocks ready for inspection, Alistair looked over their choices. “Good eye, I always found rounder, smoother rocks worked better for me than rough and irregular ones. Save this, for target practice I want you to use the other rocks. See that buoy out there?” He waited until both boys nodded. “I want you to hit that. That’s why you won’t be using the better rocks; you won’t be able to get ‘em back. Bevin, you first.”

Zevran stayed long enough to see each boy try to hit the target. Neither hit it, but they did all right. As Alistair continued working with them, he decided to go back to the Chantry. On the way, he passed Starrelena. She appeared to be looking for something. _“Or someone, perhaps?”_ thought Zevran.

Approaching the lake, she saw Alistair with Marcail and Bevin. She stopped to watch, a melancholy smile on her face. If Zevran had seen her, he would have seen the shadows back in her eyes.

Finally, Alistair looked at the boys, “Guys, you have some skills. Here’s what I have in mind. You will stay at the back of the Chantry, up behind Bann Teagan.” They looked at him with disappointment on their faces, but didn’t say anything. “Bann Teagan was always good to me, and I don’t like the idea that he will be all alone as the last line of defense if any monsters get past us on the outside.” At this, Bevin and Marcail looked more interested. “The two of you can climb on and behind the altar; if the door opens, and a monster is coming in, you shoot at it. You need to be fast as well as accurate. Don’t wait for the perfect shot, even a missed shot will slow it down. Heck, if it steps on the rock it could slip, slowing it down even further. This will give Bann Teagan a better advantage. Can you do this?”

Marcail and Bevin looked at each other and nodded. Alistair continued, “I know it’s not glamorous, there will be a lot of waiting, and you may not have the opportunity to actually shoot at one of the monsters. That doesn’t make what you are doing unimportant. A lot of soldiering involves waiting and just being ready. Let me know right now if you aren’t willing to do this.” Both boys grinned and nodded their heads. “OK, then. Gather up your ammunition, and we’ll head back to the Chantry.”

As Marcail went to pick up his rocks, and gather some more, he saw his mother watching them from the path. “Mom!” he yelled and ran toward her, “Alistair said we can help Bann Teagan.” In his excitement, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her back to Alistair. Alistair turned around and when he saw Starr, he couldn’t help it, his jaw literally just dropped. “Mom, this is Alistair.”

“Hello again, Alistair, I see you’ve met my son. Marcail, Alistair and I were best friends when I was growing up here.” As she looked at Alistair, she braced herself for what she might see.

Alistair recovered himself, somewhat, “S-Starr, um, why don’t I tell you the plan while Marcail and Bevin finish up?”  At that, Marcail left them and Alistair took Starr’s arm and moved them closer to the water and farther away from the boys. “So, I guess a lot really has happened since we were kids.” He couldn’t help the faintest hint of reserve from creeping into his voice.

“Alistair, there is a lot I want, even need to tell you. But not here and now, after the battle, where we can sit down and talk in some privacy. I promise you, Alistair, if you can wait I will answer _all_ of your questions.” She looked at him, apprehension in her eyes.

_“I never thought she would look at_ me _like that. What could have happened that she would be worried about_ me _?”_ Aloud he said, “Starr, we were always friends. I can’t imagine anything changing that. So, after the battle, maybe over a beer?” He was happy to see her relaxing with every word. “Hey, I didn’t see them around, where are your parents?”

Starr walked a few steps away. “My parents and Nana-lin died when I was 12. They were with another merchant when they were all attacked by bandits on the road outside Denerim.”

Alistair moved beside her, pulled her down to the ground so they were sitting next to each other and put his arms around her. “I am so sorry, Starr, I wish there was something I could do. You and your parents were the closest thing to a family I have ever known.”

“It’s okay, Alistair. I miss them, but I usually think of them when we were living here in Redcliffe. Do you remember how we used to sit like this whenever the other was sad or upset? It’s kind of nice to know some things don’t change.” They just sat like that for a few minutes, taking comfort in each other’s company and watching the boys finish gathering their rocks.

Marcail had been watching them out of the corner of his eye as they talked. They seemed to like each other. When he saw Alistair put his arms around his mother, he didn’t know how he felt. He liked Alistair well enough, but that was his mom. He and Bevin looked at each other; Bevin shrugged. Without saying anything, they decided they had enough rocks. They gathered up what they had and walked over to Alistair and Starr.

“Well, looks like you boys have enough. Time to head back and get organized; pick the best spots to attack from; and talk to Bann Teagan about our plan.” He stood and held out his hand to Starr, helping her up. “Did you know that your mother and I got yelled at by the Revered Mother and two of the Sisters when I was your age?”

Marcail looked up at him at the same time Starr said “Alistair!” Then he grinned, maybe he still liked Alistair after all. He and Bevin walked ahead, elbowing each other along the way.


	4. And Then, Back at the Chantry

Zevran joined the others when he saw the Warden approaching Murdock, as he did so he saw that Alistair, Starr and the boys were returning to the Chantry. He looked at his companions to see if they had noticed them yet, of course Leliana had. She quietly sidled over to him and whispered, “Alistair seems unusually comfortable with that very beautiful woman. One of the children with them bears an amazing resemblance to our Alistair. Do you know who they are?”

“Your powers of observation are acute as always, my dear Leliana. The young woman is Starrelena Feyorlin. She and Alistair were childhood best friends, which may explain, in part, why he is able to be so close to her without tripping over his own feet. You should have seen him when they met. She hugged him, he put his arms around her, partly out of surprise, I am sure, though I _wasn’t_ sure he was going to let her go. I do not know much about the boy,” he whispered back.

“Starrelena, hmmm? I think I can shed some light on that. While I was in the tavern getting supplies, I found out a few things. The boy? Alistair’s Starr is his mother. I overheard some of the men in the tavern talking, from what they said . . .”

As Elissa finished talking with Murdock and turned away, Alistair approached them, still holding Starr’s hand. Alistair called out, “Elissa! I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Starrelena. Starr and I were best friends growing up here in Redcliffe. Starr, this is our fearless leader and my fellow Grey Warden, Elissa Cousland. This is Bevin, Kaitlyn’s brother, and Marcail, Starr’s son. Starr’s been working with the archers here after she came back from Ostagar.” Alistair didn’t notice the brief disapproving glance Murdock gave him, but Zevran and Leliana did and looked at each other with a raised eyebrow.

Starr also noticed. “Alistair, perhaps you should take Bevin and Marcail to Bann Teagan and explain your plan. I can help your friends if they need anything.”

Alistair nodded in agreement and spoke to Elissa, “Zevran can tell you what we found. I probably won’t be too long.” After introducing Starr to the rest of the group, he went off with the boys, the three of them talking about the upcoming battle plans.

Zevran and Leliana watched the reactions of the others to this exchange, as they observed the closeness between ‘Stair and Starr and the likeness between Alistair and Marcail. Sten pretended he was bored, but the almost imperceptibly raised eyebrow gave him away to anybody who was looking closely. Wynne looked curious, but was polite enough not to intrude. Morrigan looked after Alistair as if a pet snail had done something interesting, not necessarily in a good way. Elissa was still and blank while Griffon alternated between looking at his mistress and looking after Marcail with interest.

“So, Starrelena, you’ve known Alistair a long time. How did the two of you meet? And were you a soldier at Ostagar?” Leliana questioned.

Starr smiled in reminiscence, “He charged into some bullies who were pestering me. I was three and he was five at the time, it seems like we were best friends instantly. As for Ostagar, I was one of the scouts.” Starr then turned to Elissa, “Did Alistair says your last name was Cousland?”

“It is, or rather, was,” said Elissa cautiously.

“I knew a Fergus Cousland at Ostagar. He was the leader of our scouting group, do you-----?”

“Is he alright? He’s my brother.” Elissa broke in, “I need to talk to Bann Teagan and the Revered Mother, come with me?” Starrelena nodded. “The rest of you make whatever preparations for tonight you think you need, and get some rest if you can. We’ll meet back here an hour before nightfall.”

 As they dispersed in different directions, Zevran and Leliana looked at each other. “Well, shall we make ourselves comfortable just over there and share information? Perhaps the day will continue to be interesting, do you think?”

“Zevran, you are so bad, but I admit, it is nice to have something to talk about other than darkspawn and the rather awkward romance developing between Elissa and Alistair.”

“Leliana, I will wager 5 sovereigns that Alistair and the Warden will never happen. My chances are much better. In fact, I am willing to wager another 5 sovereigns that she and I will become, shall we say, close.”

“Done!” say Leliana.

As they started walking, Elissa spoke, “So, about Fergus, he was out in the Korcari Wilds when I got to Ostagar. Were you with him during the last battle?”

“We were out scouting to the northwest. We found a huge encampment of darkspawn, larger than any previously reported. We were making our way back, but we had to circle wide in an effort to avoid them so we could report to the king. Unfortunately, we were not as successful as we hoped. If some Chasind hadn’t joined us . . . we defeated them, but Fergus was hurt too severely to make it back. The Chasind took him in and promised to take care of him until he was better, one of our men stayed with him and the rest of us continued on to Ostagar. Unfortunately, the delay meant we didn’t get back in time to warn the king. I guess you know what we found. Sometimes I wonder . . .” Starr’s voice trailed off as she became lost in thought.

“I don’t know. Cailan was pretty determined to fight, and I can’t help thinking that Loghain would have found another opportunity. Even if not, what good does it do to wonder about what might-have-been? I can tell you, it doesn’t help.”

“Fergus and I used to talk about our sons; it made a bond between us.” Starr fell silent for a moment, then “Do you mind if I ask you a question? I thought you were supposed to be at Castle Cousland, did . . . did something happen? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I don’t mean to intrude.”

“No, it’s easier to talk about now that I know Fergus survived. He and our men came ahead of Father and Arl Howe, supposedly because Howe’s men were delayed. It . . . it was a trap. Howe’s men entered the castle during the night, attacking and killing everyone, Mother and Father, even Fergus’ son Oren, all on Howe’s orders. I would have died if a Grey Warden, Duncan, hadn’t been visiting and agreed to help me escape. Of course, the price for his help was that I had to become a Grey Warden. So, here I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Starr squeezed Elissa’s upper arm in sympathy. “I wish there was something I could do; it will take time, but eventually you will remember the happier times more than how they died and that will bring you some comfort.”

“Thank you. Voice of experience?”

“My parents and grandmother were killed by bandits a few years ago. I still miss them, and sometimes their loss hits me all over again, but usually I just remember happier times. My biggest regret is that they didn’t get a chance to know Marcail.”

“Speaking of Marcail, you and Alistair are you, were you . . .?” inquired Elissa.

“We were best friends when we both lived here, but we haven’t seen each other in years. There is so much we don’t know about each other, so much has changed. In some ways he’s just as I remembered, I hope we can still be friends,” Starr said wistfully. After a moment she continued, “He seems happy to be a Grey Warden. Why, are you two . . . together?”  She was surprised at how much that thought hurt.

“Oh, no. Some awkward flirting is about as far as we’ve gotten. I don’t really know if there is anything else there, or if we got kind of close kind of fast because of circumstances. I thought we were getting to know each other, until we came to Redcliffe. Then he told me something he should have told me earlier. Now I don’t know.” They continued walking, not talking. Elissa broke the silence, “Why did Alistair let me, no, **insist** that I lead? He’s the senior Warden, after all.”

Starrelena thought for a minute. “You said the two of you were starting to get close. You probably already have some ideas. Based on my conversations with your brother, your parents raised you to be able lead, to have self-confidence, to be responsible for others; after all, they left you in charge of the castle. Alistair was raised to be nothing, to expect nothing, to aspire to nothing. From what I understand I doubt things changed much once he was taken to the Chantry.”

“I see. I think he underestimates himself,” the two women looked at each other in understanding.


	5. Here a Corpse, There a Corpse

That night, they stood prepared to face the coming corpses.

_“So, Alistair and his Starr together again or at least back in Redcliffe. The trouble they got into together, a lot of pies, cheese, and cookies disappeared when they were around.”_ Teagan mused, as he kept alert for anything that might make it through the door. _“Alistair was such a nice boy and had a good heart, but he was so lonely. The way Eamon let Isolde treat him . . . I’m just glad he found a friend in Starr, and that her family seemed genuinely fond of him. Starr was so lively, and she adored Alistair. Now they’re both all grown up. She’s a good, intelligent, kind and beautiful woman. A strong woman, too, raising a child alone can’t be easy and she is a good and caring mother. Being a Grey Warden suits Alistair, but I can still see in him the lonely, insecure boy. I hope he is strong enough to do the right thing by Starr and Marcail.”_

_“I have to make sure nothing gets past us,”_ Starr looked into the darkness, ready to defend her son against anything and everything that might come at them. _“Thank the Maker and creators that he is happy to stay in the Chantry. I guess I should thank ‘Stair, too, since it was his idea for Marcail and Bevin to ‘help’ Bann Teagan. I’m so happy he survived Ostagar. I can’t believe how handsome he is, that’s stupid, he looks like Cailan and everybody has always said the Theirins were attractive. But, it’s different with ‘Stair, maybe it’s just because we were such good friends. Oh, I hope he doesn’t hate me when I tell him.”_

Marcail gulped nervously in the back of the Chantry with Bevin. _“I hope nothing comes through the door. I’m scared, I wish Mom or Alistair was here, but they’re out there, fighting. I see Bella telling stories over there, maybe she’ll come over here again. She’s nice, and Mom’s friend. I wonder why Mom doesn’t have more friends. She’s the best. Bevin doesn’t look scared. He is quiet, though. I hope Mom is okay. Of course,_ nobody _is better with a bow and arrow.”_

Elissa looked at all the troops gathered to fight - soldiers and townspeople alike ready to defend their homes. _“I hope this works. Those barrels of oil should at least slow them down. I wonder if Alistair realizes how often he looks down at the chantry where Starr is standing ready.”_ As she rotated her shoulders, she realized that Alistair’s lack of attention didn’t really upset her. Above all else, she had one thought constantly popping into her head, _“Fergus is alive, **alive!** ”_           

_“Humans,”_ snorted Sten.

Few things made Zevran feel so alive as battle, or a particularly challenging target. All around him, men were stirring, preparing themselves for the battle ahead. _“Come, time for these creatures to go down.”_

_“I cannot believe we are helping these pathetic fools,”_ thought Morrigan, pacing impatiently. _“I thought the Warden would be more practical. I can understand Alistair; he’s a softhearted idiot. Look at him, yesterday he was mooning over the Warden and now he can’t keep his eyes off that Starr person.”_

_“I can’t help but think that we will find a demon is involved with all these attacks. I know of no other way so many undead could be controlled and turned against former neighbors. I hope we don’t find that all are dead at the castle,”_ Wynne considered the possibility as she activated ‘Cleansing Aura.’

_“Teagan is such a handsome man, and kind,”_ thought Bella as she helped keep the younger children calm. _“He treats everyone with simple courtesy, even me, though I don’t think he really notices me. I’m just a tavern wench, after all. I hope Starr continues to stay here; it’s been nice having a friend. And I adore Marcail; I always smile when he calls me ‘Aunty Bella.’ And the Warden forced that bastard Lloyd to fight,”_ she smiled at the thought that he would be trying to stay alive instead of trying to grope her. She acknowledged that some men thought they could take all sorts of liberties just because she worked in a tavern, but she didn’t have to like it.

Leliana fingered her arrows as she kept an alert eye on her surroundings. _“I am glad we are helping. The Maker would not like us to turn away from these people in their time of need._ She smiled a little to herself, _“and I know Alistair would not want to abandon his Starr._ "

Griffon growled as he stood alertly next to Elissa, sniffing the air for any scent of danger to the humans in his care. “ _Mistress here, good. Where’s the boy? Must keep the boy safe. Nothing must hurt mistress or the boy. Must take care of the pack.”_

_“I hope Starr will be alright,” Alistair_ admitted to himself that he was nervous about her safety. It felt strange to be up here waiting, instead of down there next to her. When they were young, they always watched each other’s back when they were in a fight, which was fairly often. _“Face it, Alistair, that’s not all. You just want to be next to her. What if our friendship is different now? She’s a mother. Maker, Starr is a **mom;** she became a mom when she was what, 13, 14? How did that happen? She must be a good mom, Marcail seems like a pretty good kid, and he obviously adores her.” _ He felt a little ashamed at the small twinge of jealousy he felt at that. He would have loved to have that kind of relationship with his own mother. He had also noticed some of the sidelong glances shot his way, or hers. _“I guess old rumors never die, people used to look at me like that sometimes when I lived here, especially after I was moved to the stables. You’d think they would have forgotten about that, by now. I mean, we’re adults now. Although, it did seem that even Teagan looked a little strangely at me earlier. I wonder what he wanted to say.”_

Then the cry came from the lookout, **_“They’re coming!”_** and there was no time for contemplation. Archers and Morrigan set the path from the castle to the windmill, covered with oil, aflame and destroyed many of the corpses. Arrows, swords and spells quickly cut down those who made it through. Griffon and Morrigan temporarily halted them, making it easier for the fighters to demolish them. Wynne’s healing spells kept them strong.

Finally, the corpses stopped coming and they could all take a breather. Elissa and Alistair looked around, no major injuries; just some bumps and bruises easily taken care of by Wynne.

One of the townsmen came running from the Chantry, “They’re coming from the lake! Help us!”

_“Starr!”_ the thought screamed through Alistair’s brain. “Morrigan, you and Sten stay here with the knights and guard the path. The rest of you, hurry!” Alistair charged down the path after the townsman, Elissa and the others following.

As soon as they came in sight of the village square, they saw the villagers in the middle of battle. Starr was leaping around using daggers with deadly efficiency or firing off arrows, sometimes two or three at a time. The other archers, benefiting from her earlier lessons were shooting with regularity and some accuracy. Even Lloyd wasn’t holding back, using fist and dagger, his size giving him extra power. Murdock and the others were hacking and slashing with sword, shield and axe. Fortunately, the repairs Owen had done earlier were holding up well under the onslaught. Leliana began rapidly firing, scattering the core of corpses, making it easier to pick them off. Wynne began casting healing spells, glyphs of paralysis and stonefist; Griffon charged into the square, into the thickest fighting, stunning and shredding any undead who got in his way.

Alistair, Elissa and Zevran ran forward. Alistair directed them to cover the near side of the square and entrance from the lake while he maneuvered around to the opposite side, where Starr was fighting with Lloyd and the archers. He noticed a wolf fighting with them as well; it began working in concert with Elissa’s mabari. As he moved closer, he caught Starr’s eye, they grinned at each other in momentary exhilaration. He motioned for her to keep firing, eliminating as many monsters at a distance as possible. He worked on destroying the ones that had already made it through. They fell into some of the same fighting rhythms of their childhood. Alistair kept an eye on the battlefield, noticing when somebody faltered or needed help. He directed the fighting accordingly; Starr, Elissa, Zevran and Leliana responded without question.

At one point, a particularly large cluster of corpses targeted Starr and Lloyd, who were right in front of the Chantry, Alistair a few steps away. Many of the fighters had moved to the other side of the village square during the course of the fighting, leaving them temporarily alone and quickly surrounded. Alistair was redirecting the others back to their positions as he moved to assist when Starr let out a huge war cry, stunning the rotten walking dead senseless. She switched to her daggers and began an incredibly graceful and incredibly deadly dance of death. Alistair thought only Zevran could match her. Lloyd suffered a minor leg wound and Starr was scratched, but between the three of them, they quickly dispatched the corpses. Not one made it into the Chantry.

Finally, dawn neared. All the villagers were alive and no monsters remained. As everybody cheered, Alistair grabbed Starr, picked her up and swung her around, both of them laughing. She looked down at him, into his eyes and heat passed between them. They both turned red, and Alistair awkwardly put her down and let her go. Starr turned, mumbling something about seeing to Marcail, and quickly walked into the Chantry, leaving Alistair staring after her again. Zevran and Leliana discreetly elbowed each other and snickered.

Elissa touched his arm and they went inside to report to Bann Teagan. Bevin was already standing with his sister, so Alistair stopped and returned their family’s sword to them. Starr was near Teagan, Marcail in her arms and the two of them chattering away with Bella. Alistair didn’t know what to say, so he stood back as Elissa spoke with Teagan. Finally, Marcail broke away from his mom and came to Alistair.

They looked at each other for a moment, then Alistair spoke, “What’s your report, soldier?”

Marcail grinned. “Everybody here is ok, sir.” Then he took Alistair’s hand and dragged him over to Starr and Bella. Just then, Teagan and Elissa began moving toward the door. Marcail grabbed his mother’s hand and they all followed Teagan outside.

“Friends, we have won and are all alive, thanks to these people next to me.” Everybody cheered, and then bowed their heads in silence as the Revered Mother said a prayer in thanks to the Maker. When she was done and the townspeople were dispersing, Teagan turned to the Wardens. “Now we must make our way into the castle. Please meet me at the mill,” and he strode off.

Starr kneeled down to talk to Marcail. “Marcail, we need to see what’s going on at the castle, and hopefully find out what sent these monsters to the village. I want you to stay with Bella and Kaitlyn, and help the Revered Mother put the Chantry back together. Will you do that, if it’s ok with Bella?” Bella indicated it was.

With a mutinous pout, he replied, “M-o-o-o-m-m, why do you have to go? Anyway, Bevin and Kaitlyn will be leaving soon to go to an orphage.”

“I think you mean orphanage. Let me talk to Kaitlyn, I have an idea that might work out for all of us. You remember Connor. He was very nice to you when we moved here.” As Marcail nodded Starr continued, “He’s been locked in the castle with whatever evil sent those creatures. If we need to get him out of there, it will be easier and safer if he sees a friend. Now, I’m going to talk to Kaitlyn.”

Starr went into the Chantry and talked to Kaitlyn. When she returned she was smiling, “It’s settled. Kaitlyn is going to wait a little while, so you and Bevin will stay with her and Bella and help out here while we go to the castle.” She bent down and kissed Marcail on the top of his head while he squirmed.

As she ran to catch up to the wardens she heard Marcail yell out, “Be careful, Mom! Say hi to Connor for me. Hey, Bevin, I bet I can pick up more chairs and put them back faster than you can!” Alistair heard him and turned around. He waved to Marcail as he waited for Starr; together they caught up to the rest of the group.


	6. Revelations

Elissa was in the lead as they walked to the mill. When they spied Teagan, he was looking over the lake to the castle. His mood was melancholy and determined. He was just beginning to explain his plan when Lady Isolde ran up to him, “Teagan, Teagan,” she cried.

Starr watched with one eyebrow raised in sardonic amusement as Isolde attempted to convince Teagan to come with her. Isolde ignored everybody else as looked into his eyes and played to Teagan’s male ego and sense of chivalry. A quick look told Starr that she didn't fool the women, but they were maintaining a neutral appearance. Isolde was affronted when Elissa interrupted the scene with a question, and was positively scathing when Alistair spoke. Only Elissa noticed the green flash in Starr’s eyes before Starr folded her arms and looked directly at Isolde, who promptly turned back to Teagan. At least they learned that Eamon was poisoned, apparently on Loghain’s orders.

Teagan decided he needed to go with Isolde, and told her to wait while he spoke to the Wardens. She urged him to hurry, but complied. She’d won, after all. Teagan gave a ring to Elissa, explaining that it would open the hidden mill entrance to a secret tunnel that would take them to the castle dungeons. He joined Isolde and Elissa led the way to the mill. Into the entrance and down, down below the lake they went and eventually up into the dungeons.

The first surprise was the corpses they saw trying to claw at some person in one of the cells. After getting rid of them, they discovered he was the tutor Isolde had hired. The next revelation was that he was an apostate mage who Isolde hired because she noticed that her son Connor was displaying signs of being a mage, and she wanted an apostate to teach him enough to hide his magic. It was not much of a surprise to find that Jowan, the apostate, was first hired by Loghain to poison Eamon because Eamon was ‘a threat to the nation.’ _“Much as I dislike Isolde, I don’t know what I would do if Marcail showed signs of magic. I wouldn’t want to give him up to the Circle, possibly never to see him again, but he would need training for his own sake and safety. Could I risk the lives of several other people in order to keep him with me?”_ Starr reflected _. “As the son of an important Arl, you’d think some allowances could be made for visitation. The Chantry may have power over mages and templars, but they are politically astute enough to not to want to offend the nobility, who have their own soldiers and who have the money and power to support or oppose many of their efforts. Sometimes I think maybe the Chantry has too much power.”_

Elissa decided to let Jowan out of his cell, after he said he would help any way he could. Alistair took issue, which meant Morrigan took issue with Alistair. After everybody stopped bickering, they continued. More corpses, more fighting. Crazed mabari: more fighting. Demons: more fighting. They discovered Owen’s daughter Valena hiding in a small storage room; Elissa directed her to the dungeon passage so she could escape the castle and go back to her father. They returned to fighting corpses, skeletons and revenants until they were able to open the gates for Ser Perth and the other knights.

Tired but victorious they entered the main hall together only to be greeted by an unpleasant surprise. Isolde had not told them the entire truth. A demon possessed Connor, causing all the trouble and controlling Teagan and the remaining guards. Demon-Connor spoke to Elissa about her purpose, demeaning Isolde and further humiliating Teagan during the course of their conversation. When he decided he was going to get no more amusement out of the Warden and cohorts, he directed Teagan and the guards to attack. The battle was brief, during which Connor ran away and Teagan knocked back into his right mind. Then the real battle began: what to do about Connor.

Alistair was at odds with himself. _“He’s an abomination, he must be destroyed,”_ argued his templar training. _“He’s just a boy, Arl Eamon is his father and Arl Eamon raised me,”_ he countered. _“There must be another way.”_

Isolde appealed to Teagan and Starr. “He’s my son! You cannot kill him; there must be another way. You, you are a mother yourself. The demon is not always out, sometimes Connor is himself. You must help me!”

Starr couldn’t resist her appeal. “What you have done, Isolde, is appalling. Do you know how many lives of good people lie at your feet? You trusted an apostate who has no reason to have your interests as his first concern. This same apostate tried to murder your husband, all because you did not want to send your son to the Circle. As horrible as your actions are, however, as a mother I do understand your reasons even if I don’t agree with your choices. If something or someone were threatening Marcail, the Fade itself wouldn’t stop me from hunting them down and destroying them.” Starr paused to gather her thoughts, “I have to say I am in favor of exploring any options which don’t result in Connor’s death. The big question is, _are_ there any other options? What do you think, Elissa?” Hoping that this would make it clear to Isolde that Elissa and not Starr was the leader of this group.

Elissa turned to Wynne and Morrigan, “Wynne, Morrigan you are the only mages in the group. Do you know of any way we can defeat the demon without killing Connor, and hopefully anybody else?” The two mages looked at each other and actually found themselves in agreement. Before either of them could say anything, Jowan came forward.

“There is a way a mage can go into the Fade and fight the demon. If they are successful, Connor will be free. There is risk whenever you confront a demon, however. Both the mage and Connor could die.” Isolde was, of course ecstatic. Elissa was dubious.

“Jowan,” Elissa began, “do you know the ritual?”

Jowan replied, “Normally you need several mages and a lot of lyrium. I do know a way involving blood magic, but it would take the life force of another person. I can’t do the ritual as well as go into the Fade. Maybe it’s not a good idea, though.”

“ **NO**!” yelled Alistair. “We are not going to compound the problem by using blood magic!”

At the same time Isolde cried, “Use me, it is my child we are trying to save!”

Elissa agreed with Alistair. “We are not going to free Connor by deliberately killing another. Wynne, do you think there are enough mages and lyrium left at the Circle to attempt this? I will only ask for volunteers, I will not force anybody into the Fade and a fight with a demon.”

“I think we should try. There should be enough of both mages and lyrium, if Irving and Greagoir agree. I will go into the Fade. I have some, unique, experience which should be helpful.” Morrigan rolled her eyes behind Wynne’s back, but agreed.

“I know what we will do, then. Wynne, I would like you to show Morrigan how you created the barrier in the tower. I want Morrigan, Alistair and Zevran to stay here and monitor the situation with Teagan. Isolde, you will turn over all authority for the castle to Teagan so he can get things in order. I just can’t trust you to do the right thing.” Isolde looked like she would protest, but at the steely glare from Elissa and stern look of disapproval from Teagan she subsided. “Starr, would you be willing to help Bann Teagan put the castle back in order?” Elissa couldn’t help thinking _“I bet that puts Isolde’s nose in a knot. From what I’ve seen Starr is no pushover.”_   Starr nodded, smiling slightly, “The rest of us will hurry to the Circle and back as soon as we are ready. Leliana, wait here for Wynne and then the two of you can join us at the tavern.”

She walked away to leave the castle, Sten and Griffon in tow. Starr spoke to Teagan, “Bann Teagan, I am going to get a few things and, if it’s agreeable to you I’ll bring back Bella and we’ll begin with the kitchen. No matter what, we all need to eat.” Teagan smiled and agreed with her plan. Starr hurried off and caught up to Elissa; they began speaking and then continued walking together.

Alistair watched them leave, thinking about the last few days. Zevran sauntered over to him and looked after the two women. With fake concern he spoke, “You have my sympathies, Alistair, I do not envy you your situation.”

Alistair blinked, “What situation? What are you talking about?”

“Why, your two women are speaking together. Who knows what they are saying? If they don’t get along, you, my friend, are in trouble. And if they do get along? You are in even more trouble.”

Leliana was nearby, and had to smother a giggle at Alistair’s faint look of concern. “Oh Zevran,” she said, “Certainly you exaggerate. It’s not as if he is involved with either of them, much less both, therefore there isn’t a problem. Starr and Elissa are probably just talking about fighting techniques, I’m sure they wouldn’t gang up on poor Alistair.” Alistair’s look of concern deepened.

“Ah, Leliana, but Alistair _is_ obviously romantically interested in both of them. Just two days ago he was flirting, or attempting to flirt, with Elissa and was in despair when she became upset with him. Then he sees the celestial Starr and is positively smitten. Did you notice that in battle the other night his concern was obviously with Starr and not our leader?”

“True. As a woman, a little advice, Alistair, we don’t appreciate our emotions being played with.”

“I’m not even involved with _one_ woman,” Alistair cried, then lowered his voice before more attention could turn their way. “I am _not_ romantically interested in both of them, and I don’t know what you two are talking about.”

Zevran cut him off, “So, you have decided then. Which divine creature is your choice? I will be glad to console the other one.”

Alistair glared at him, “You stay away from S-them. I am going to see how Wynne and Morrigan are coming along with that barrier,” and he stalked off.

Leliana and Zevran started laughing. Alistair stiffened momentarily but kept going. They could see how red his ears were and laughed even harder. Finally, Leliana said, “Well, Zevran, I think you are going to win part of your bet. That little slip of the tongue was quite telling on Alistair’s part, was it not?”

“Ah, indeed it was. I am not sure Alistair is ready to admit it, though. He tries so hard to be virtuous; he may not think it seemly to pursue one woman so soon after pursuing another.”

“I hope you are wrong, Zevran. I like Alistair. It would be a shame if Alistair got in his own way and missed out on something wonderful.”

“Believe it or not, Leliana, I too like our Alistair, even if he has the bad taste to rebuff my advances. He is also the best source of entertainment I have had in a long time. Come; let us see what we can find in the castle that might be useful. We had hardly any opportunity to explore earlier.”

They wandered off in a different direction than the one Alistair had taken. Alistair passed by Isolde and Teagan on his way to see Wynne and, ugh, Morrigan. Isolde was talking to Teagan and he was still in earshot as she complained, “Teagan, I cannot believe that woman! Who does she think she is to run **my** home? I am Arlessa here.” Her eyes flashed and her accent grew even thicker.

“Isolde,” Teagan patiently replied, “The Warden is doing what she thinks best – “

He got no further before Isolde hastily interrupted him. “Not _her_ , although that one is quite arrogant. I mean the _other_ one, that common Starr creature, Alistair’s _little friend,_ who is no better than  . . . than . . . “ words failed her in her anger. Alistair was a few steps behind Isolde, and Teagan did not miss the way Alistair’s fists clenched in anger at Isolde’s attack.

_“Good,”_ thought Teagan. “Isolde, I will not have you talk about her that way. Starrelena is a kind, strong, intelligent and incredibly beautiful young woman. She is doing a good job raising her son and helps a number of people. I believe actions determine who is ‘common’ and who is not. She is not responsible for the deaths of half of Redcliffe.” At this, Isolde had the good grace to appear embarrassed. Teagan continued, “Furthermore, if I thought she would return my interest I might even think about courting her myself, and consider myself fortunate indeed if I did win her affections.”

Isolde’s eyes widened, “Tea-gan, she is much too young for you.”

A bit insulted Teagan pointed out, “no more than the difference between you and Eamon. Now enough, you should go rest, or watch over Eamon or something out of the way and away from Connor.” Isolde stormed off in a huff, muttering Orlesian phrases Teagan was glad he didn’t understand.

Alistair had already moved on, deep in thought. He caught up to the two mages. Instead of a barrier such as Wynne had created, they had come up with a series of spells that would monitor different aspects of the family quarters. They would not eliminate the need for somebody to stand guard, but they would eliminate the need for Morrigan to keep constant vigilance on Connor. She, and Alistair to some degree by virtue of his templar training, would be able to sense what was happening with Connor and Eamon from anywhere within the castle and take whatever steps necessary. They agreed that it would be best for one of them to remain nearby at all times. Zevran could provide brief reprieves, if needed, but he would be most useful gathering information and supplies unless Demon-Connor made an appearance. Morrigan volunteered to maintain watch during the day, so she could avoid as many of ‘those fools’ as she could. Alistair offered to accompany Wynne to the tavern; he hoped the walk would give him a chance to think.

On the way out of the castle, they found Zevran and Leliana. They explained the plan to Zevran. He elected to make sure that all those who would be guarding Connor know what to look for. Alistair also suggested that Zevran figure out a way to sound an alarm that would deploy all the guards and knights in the castle if it became necessary. Leliana ran on ahead to the tavern, leaving Alistair and Wynne to walk in companionable silence at a more relaxed pace.

“Your friend Starr seems like an interesting young woman,” Wynne began. “I believe she told Leliana that when you were five you rescued her. Is that right?”

“I was mad as a demon that day,” reminisced Alistair. “There were a group of boys, my age and a bit older, who used to tease me about being a bastard. This time I wound up covered in mud, and I just knew _I_ was the one who would be in trouble. Fuming, I started running in the direction I thought they had gone. There was Starr, 3 years old, long hair down her back, wearing some purple thing with flowers in her hand. She looked just like a picture of a princess I had seen in an old book somewhere. Except in the picture, the princess didn’t look angry enough to tackle an ogre. The same boys who pushed me in the mud were circling her, calling her names. When they knocked her down and started hitting her and kicking her, I saw red and charged. She turned out to be a fighter though; we weren’t the only ones who ended up with bruises.”

“Why didn’t she try to prevent them from knocking her down if she was a fighter?”

“Something to do with promising not to get her dress dirty. It was new, in honor of her grandmother coming to visit. I think she hoped if she didn’t say anything they would get bored and go away. _That_ didn’t work. We finally chased them all off, and then she started to cry, worried about being in trouble because of her dress. I offered to go with her to tell her parents and that calmed her down. You know,” Alistair said, and grinned, “she gave me my first kiss. She noticed my eye was swelling shut so she kissed it to make it better, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

Wynne laughed, “Did it make your eye feel better?”

“Heck no, it stung. But I could hardly tell her that, could I?” Alistair chuckled.

“No, even 3-year old young ladies might feel rebuffed at that bit of honesty. What a lovely story, and now you two will have some time to catch up while we go to the Circle. Enjoy it, Alistair. These sorts of opportunities won’t be coming up very often.”

Together they entered the tavern.


	7. Revelations continued

Upon entering the tavern, Alistair looked for Starr. He saw Lloyd frowning behind the counter, a number of townspeople celebrating, and the Warden with the rest of their group. He did _not_ see Starr. Strolling over to Elissa, he updated her on the situation at the castle and reassured her that they would be fine. He tried to be unobtrusive as he searched the tavern, but he didn't fool Elissa.

“She’s not here, Alistair.” Elissa was amused as Alistair tried to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Alistair, relax. She came; she talked to Bella, the two of them left.”

“After she dealt with the bartender,” Sten added.

The look Elissa gave Sten should have turned him to stone. Alistair looked at the two of them, and asked why Lloyd had to be ‘dealt with.’ Griffon just put his head down and placed his paws over his snout.

“It’s not a big deal – “

“Your friend took exception to where he was placing his hands,” Sten calmly explained before turning his attention to his sword. Alistair scowled and turned his head to glare at Lloyd.

“Alistair,” Elissa said calmly, “Starr dealt with Lloyd very effectively; he won’t be groping Bella or another woman any time soon.”

Alistair looked at Elissa, “Bella,” he repeated after her. She nodded her head. “He was bothering Bella and Starr put a stop to it.” Elissa nodded again. Alistair breathed in and out, calming himself. “Well, I should be getting back before Morrigan turns somebody into a toad for smiling at her. See you in a day or two.” He turned around and walked out, stopping to have a quick word with Lloyd on the way. Elissa and the others watched with interest as Lloyd turned white, then green as he watched Alistair leave. Elissa looked at Wynne and grinned. Wynne’s eyes twinkled in response. Leliana joined them a few minutes later and they headed off.

Alistair slowly walked back to the castle. He needed to think. Seeing Starr again raised a whole lot of feelings, old ones and new ones. He remembered how close they were as children. Maker, he loved spending time with her and her family. They always made him feel welcome, not a burden, not an obligation, not a pest. So many times, he wished they were his family and he lived with them instead of in the castle hiding from Isolde and trying not to disappoint Arl Eamon. It felt good to feel that connection with somebody again. And now they were both grown up. By the Maker, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He remembered how she had felt in his arms, with a slim waist but curvy and solid. A man would have to be 20 years dead not to feel attracted to her. He liked what he had seen of her, how she conducted herself and treated people, especially her son. She was somebody he wanted to get to know and hopefully build on their friendship from years ago.

He entered the castle, and decided he should see how Morrigan was doing, and if she needed anything before looking for Starr. Morrigan was entertaining herself by keeping Isolde as far away from Connor as she could. She told Alistair that she couldn’t believe she had found somebody more irritating than he was. Having discharged his duty until that night, he went downstairs in search of Starr and heard somebody coming out of Arl Eamon’s office. It was Bann Teagan and Starr. Her hand was on his arm and they were talking and smiling. He got close enough to hear her say, “Thank you, Teagan. You’ve been so good us since we moved to Redcliffe.” She kissed him on the cheek and turned away. As she did so, she saw Alistair and grinned. “Alistair, I was about to go to down to the kitchen, do you want to come? I have some cheese waiting.”

“That sounds good, I’ll be there soon.” He reminded himself that they were just friends and Teagan was a good man. If Teagan made her happy, he would be happy for her. He refused to acknowledge that he felt any jealousy at all. He nodded to Teagan and made his way to the kitchen. There he found Starr, Bella and Kaitlyn cleaning, taking inventory, and monitoring something in a large pot over the fire. All of a sudden, he realized he was starving. He wandered over to the pot to see what was cooking. He was very disappointed to see that it was just water.

Bella smiled at his look of disappointment. “Starr, there is a man here who looks like he will keel over if he doesn’t get something to eat.”

Starr looked up, “Sorry Stair, we have a lot of cleaning to do before we can start cooking, and we need hot water for that. Here’s the cheese I promised,” Alistair perked up at that, “walk with me to the village? I’ll see how Marcail and Bevin are faring with the Revered Mother, and then you can help me bring some of my own supplies back here so we can start preparing food.”

“Real food? Hot food? Food I don’t have to cook? Of course I’ll come with you.” Alistair ignored Bella and Kaitlyn snickering in the background. “And it will give us a chance to talk without impending doom interrupting.”

“Too true. Bella, I think we should start with this table. Give it a good scouring so I have a clean surface to work on when I get back, and then start on the counters. I’ll bring my own pots and pans for cooking, for now. So Kaitlyn, after the table is clean would you start washing dishes and utensils? Even if they look clean, it gives me the creeps thinking that dead hands may have touched them, eeuw. I’ll be back soon.”

Stair and Starr headed out of the kitchen and down to village. “So,” Alistair began, “you and Teagan seem to be getting along well. I saw you coming out of Eamon’s office. Teagan’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is. He was very kind and helpful when Marcail and I first came to Redcliffe. He introduced me to the couple who own, owned, the village store. They needed help and didn’t want to move back in to the rooms over the store. They were quite happy in their house, but couldn’t afford to pay very much. Teagan introduced us, they got the help they needed and in return, I received a small amount of pay plus a place to live. Marcail has lessons at the Chantry with some of the other children in the village and does small chores at the store. It was a good arrangement.”

“Was a good arrangement? Did they, did they die in the attacks?” Alistair quietly asked.

Starr nodded. “They were good people. And they positively adored Marcail. They were like grandparents to him, they took care of Marcail during the day while I was at Ostagar and Bella stayed with him at night. I was hoping . . . well that’s why I needed to talk to Bann Teagan. Asking for his help yet again.” She frowned and kicked at a stone, reminding Alistair of when they were children. “I hate having to ask people to help me. It makes me feel stupid, like a failure.”

“As I remember, you were always independent, and confident. However, you were also proud and stubborn. Are you sure it’s not your pride that’s hurt? I’ve seen you fight, and the way you act with Marcail; whatever you are, Starr, you are _not_ a failure.”

“Trust my best friend to see right through me,” and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh well, I had an idea, but I needed to talk to Teagan about it. Nobody is around to run the store; somebody will have to begin putting it in order and talking to merchants, and so on. I talked to Teagan about putting Bella in charge.”

“Wait a minute, why aren’t you the natural choice?”

Starr ignored the question, for the moment. “Bella’s experience at the tavern will help. She’s smart, she may make a few mistakes but she’ll do well. Since it is going to take a while before it can be fully functioning, she can also help Teagan out at the castle. She’s tough enough not to let Isolde get under her skin. Teagan knows Redcliffe needs a functioning store. Kaitlyn is almost old enough to be Bevin’s guardian. She’ll help Bella and that way they don’t have to go to an orphanage.”

Without conscious direction, they found themselves by the lake again and sat down. Alistair folded his arms and waited. Starrelena looked out over the lake as she continued, “Bella was more than happy at the opportunity to get away from Lloyd. He seems to think that a woman working in a tavern, especially for him, is fair game. He groped her and made comments to her constantly.”

“Only Bella? Did he ever bother you?” Alistair couldn’t help asking, thinking of earlier that day.

“Once, I came to see Bella and he grabbed my ass and . . . let’s just say he knows I can protect myself.”

“It _is_ a great ass,” Alistair muttered without thinking. _“Maker’s breath, I_ didn’t _just say that out loud, did I? She’s going to think I’m a slimy lecher! I am just going to pretend I didn’t say anything. That’ll work. I hope.”_ Louder he proclaimed, “I have no doubt he’ll not bother you again. At least Bella doesn’t have to worry about Teagan. Teagan appreciates a pretty woman, but he always treats people with respect. You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

_“He thinks I have a great ass?”_ Starr felt oddly flattered, even though if anybody else said that she would be insulted. _“Should I say anything? Nope. I’ll just . . . no.”_

“Bella will move into my rooms with Marcail. Marcail will continue his lessons at the Chantry and will be under Bella’s care. Teagan offered to mentor him and act as co-guardian with Bella while I’m gone.” Starr took a breath before answering his question.

“While you’re gone, where are you going?” demanded Alistair.

Starr looked at him. “When Elissa comes back, and you leave, I will be leaving with you. I spoke to her before she left.” She held up her hand before he could say anything else.  “But that’s not what I need to tell you. It’s about Marcail umm, well, umm, it’s like this . . ." Wrapping her arms around herself she blurted out, “everybodyherethinksthatyou’rethefather.”

He sat like stone for a few seconds and then jumped up and started pacing. Looking at Starr, he said, “Did I just hear you right? Why would people think that I’m the father . . . how could they think that?  When . . . but we never . . . I haven’t even seen you since I _was 10 years old and carted off to the Chantry!_ I would love a family, but I kind of thought that I would know about it before everybody else . . .” He stopped talking when he saw how pale she had become. “Okay, I’m confused, start over and tell me what’s going on. With a few more details, please.” He sat down in front of her and just waited.

Starr kept looking down at the ground. Finally she began, “After my parents died, I had to find work, paying work. I was tall and looked older than I was and so was able to get a job cleaning rooms and sweeping floors at some of the taverns.” She cleared her throat. “For a little while I stayed with a friend, but that was only a temporary solution, until I could support myself. After a few weeks I got additional work at the Pearl.”

Alistair broke in, “The br-brothel?!” he exclaimed, feeling his face get red.

Starr looked up at him and said fiercely, “I was there to **clean** , nothing more, Alistair. Those rooms needed to be cleaned _a lot_.” Then _she_ blushed, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Sanga, the owner, paid well, and when I started helping out in the kitchen, she paid me even more.”

Chewing her lip, she hesitated, “I’ve never talked about this to _any_ one, I really don’t want to talk about it now, but I owe you at least some sort of explanation. Some nobles grabbed me and my friend one day, they wanted to give Prince Cailan a special ‘present,’ a fresh new whore who needed training, with Cailan having the ‘honor’ to be my first teacher. I fought, Stair, believe me I fought. They were cruel, but not stupid. They used my friend as a hostage. She fought back, too, but they didn’t care how hard they hit her. But me, they didn’t want to mark me up for Cailan,” she said bitterly.  “They said if I didn’t do what they wanted, they would hurt Vionna even more, and if I went and didn’t come back, or told anybody, Vionna would die. What was I supposed to do? Let them kill her!? She was my friend!” She looked up at him, her eyes brown with remembered pain and sorrow, turning an angry black before she calmed herself with deep breaths. At some point, she had grabbed Alistair’s hands, holding on as if for dear life.

Alistair didn’t think she realized how hard she was gripping him. He loosened his hands from her grasp and pulled her over until she was huddled in his lap, with his arms around her. “I’m sorry, so sorry, what can I do?” he whispered over and over into her hair.

Starr was silent for a while, calming herself – or preparing herself, and said, “Well, umm, you kind of already did it.”

“Oh? . . . . . “

“Please, just let me finish. They brought me to Cailan and I was with him for 2 weeks. When those _so-called nobles_ picked me up, they beat me and dumped me in the woods, leaving me for dead. Some hunters found me; I realized I was pregnant; they helped me and I stayed with them for a few years. They trained me to fight and take care of myself. I owe them so much I don’t know if I can ever repay them. Eventually, I decided it was time for Marcail and me to leave the forest and we came to Redcliffe.”

“Why Redcliffe?” Alistair wasn’t sure how to ask some of the other questions swirling in his brain.

“I needed to make a home for Marcail. All those years away, Redcliffe meant home – Mom and Dad alive, getting into mischief with my best friend...We’ve been doing ok. Well, until the corpses started coming. People asked about Marcail’s father, I said he was dead, but I began to think about what would be best for Marcail. What should I tell them? What was I going to tell Marcail, now and later? By then I had heard the rumors about Loghain leaving the battlefield. I didn’t know what to do; somebody was going to ask more questions. It’s a normal question. People asked if he looked like his father, I had to say yes, he obviously doesn’t look like me. Then one day Marcail got covered in mud and Teagan commented how much he looked like you. And I realized that if people thought _you_ were the father nobody would notice him. I mean nobody who might be in a position to tell Loghain would think to mention it, because they don’t know about you. Most people don’t know you’re Maric’s son, so if . . . “

“Wait, how do you know that? I never said anything, I . . . “

“I saw some portraits of a younger Cailan when I was . . . with him. At first I wondered why on Thedas Cailan would have a picture of you, until I realized the eyes were different. It’s amazing how much you look alike; he’s almost as handsome as you. Stop preening, Alistair.”

“Anyway, I never actually said you were the father, but I did tell Bella a story about my family traveling near the Chantry where you were studying, you saw us and we agreed to sneak out that night and meet in a nearby orchard. That I grabbed what I thought was a jug of cider to meet you. We started talking, the cider turned out to be something a lot stronger, that I didn’t think either of us remembered what happened based on how sick I felt the next day when I woke up in my bed, dirty and disheveled. I know she didn’t repeat the story, and she knows it’s not the true story, but I made sure that one of the town gossips was in earshot. Between that story, and the comments about Marcail looking like you or his father, people started assuming that you were Marcail’s father. I’m sorry ‘Stair, I knew you were a Grey Warden at Ostagar, I thought you were dead and wouldn’t mind . . .”

Starr’s voice trailed off and she stood up and moved away. Alistair looked up at her, all he could think was that his best friend had been through horrors he couldn’t imagine, that she hadn’t told him everything, and that she needed him more than she ever had when they were children. He’d hated the Chantry and a lot of what happened there, but it seemed inconsequential in light of Starr’s revelations He felt small when he thought of all his complaining. When he was a child, he needed her and her family a lot more than she ever needed him. They had always treated him as if he was worth something, that he, Alistair, had value as a person and wasn’t some inconvenient nothing. In spite of everything Starr had been through, he still saw in her the little girl with moonlight in her hair and flowers in her hand. She was his friend, and if pretending he was the father of her child helped her out, he would do it. And if anybody didn’t like it, they could **darn** well drop down a darkspawn hole.

Decision made, he stood up, walked towards her and took her hand, “In a weird way, Starr, you’ve given me what I never thought I would have, a family to call my own. I can’t thank you enough for this gift. Marcail may be my nephew instead of my son, but he _is_ my family. For the record, any man with half a brain would be proud to be the father of your child.”

Throwing an arm over her shoulder in friendship, they began walking towards the Chantry. “And how did you get so tall? You're almost as tall as I am. What are you, 6 feet? I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman that tall. Neither of your parents was close to that. We have a lot more catching up to do; it will give us something to talk about while we are traveling instead of listening to Morrigan telling me what an idiot I am or Zevran offering to teach me about sex.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

Starrelena looked up and kissed him on the cheek, making both of them blush, “’Alistair, I will probably only say this once: when we met, I thought you were my knight in shining armor. I still do, I am so happy that, well, thank you.” They walked along some more, and then she looked sideways at him, “Just how did you know about the Pearl? Did you go there often?” She laughed and laughed as he blushed and sputtered.


	8. Marcail

Starr and Alistair were about halfway to the Chantry when they saw Marcail and Bevin. “Marcail,” Starrelena called, upon hearing his mother, they loped over to her. “You boys finished helping the Revered Mother already?”

“She said we’d worked hard and deserved a break. Said we might as well get something to eat while we were out.” Bevin replied.

“Well,” said Starr, “we were coming to look for you two. Bevin, you can go back to your house and start unpacking your things. You and Kaitlyn don’t have to go to Denerim, we’ve worked something out.”

The boys’ eyes got big; they grinned at each other and started punching each in their excitement. Alistair looked on in amusement, while Starr looked on in bemusement. Finally, she stopped them, laughing, “OK, you can stop now. Bevin, get a move on so Kaitlyn doesn’t have to do everything when she gets back from helping at the castle. Come on, Marcail, we’ve got work to do too.” They walked towards the store and found a quiet corner.

Sitting down on the low wall, Starr hesitantly began, “Marcail, do you remember what I told you about your father?” She waited until he nodded, though he looked confused.

Alistair broke in, “I’m here.” Alistair bent down on one knee so they could see each other face to face. “Hello, Marcail,” his eyes traveled over Marcail’s face in wonderment. It was as if he was seeing him for the first time.

In turn, Marcail examined Alistair to see if he was joking. He looked up at his mother, “Is he really my father?” he said so quietly, she almost didn’t hear him.

Just as she was about to answer him, Alistair cut in, “Yes, I am. Your mother was just telling me-" but had to stop when Marcail punched him in the nose.

Starr exclaimed, “Marcail!” and made a move to intervene, but Alistair waved her off.

“No, I understand why he did that,” at that, Marcail looked at him quizzically. “Give us a few minutes to get to know each other a little. We’ll meet you back at your rooms.” Starr looked at him, then Marcail, and nodded in agreement before leaving.

 Marcail went to run off, but Alistair grabbed him by the shoulder. “Not so fast, we need to talk. Why don’t we go down by the lake?” And so saying, he stood up, took Marcail’s hand and started walking. Both of them walked down lost in thought, wondering about the other, wondering how much things would change.

_“Why isn’t he mad at me? I punched him, he should be angry or something.”_

_“What do I say, how much should I tell him? Maker, he looks so much like me it’s like looking in a mirror. He has more self-confidence than I did at that age, I wouldn’t have dared punch my supposed father in the nose. He’s got a good punch. Bet Starr taught him that, she could throw a punch with the best of them. Is it wrong to feel proud of that?”_

When they reached the dock, Alistair motioned Marcail to sit, and then sat down next to him. _“I feel like I’ve done this before, oh wait, I have,”_ thought Alistair wryly. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, then Alistair reached into the little pack he always carried with him, attached to his belt. He pulled out a small package with the rest of the cheese Starr had given him. “Want some cheese?” he asked. He couldn’t miss the way Marcail’s eyes lit up and thought, as he gave him a piece, _“At least we have something in common.”_

“Why did you leave us?” Marcail asked the question quietly, but Alistair could see the resentment and hurt in the back of his eyes.

“I never left you. Your mother is the best friend I have ever had, and if I had known about you nothing this side of the Fade would have kept me from you,” Alistair looked Marcail straight in the eye when he said this, and watched some of the hurt fade. “What did your mother tell you about your father?”

“She said that he was a good man, but that she wasn’t able to tell him about me. Later, she said he died at Ostagar. But you aren’t dead.”

“No, that was a surprise to her. I was there, and almost everybody did die, supposedly including me. Meeting you and seeing her, I’m rather glad I didn’t.”

Marcail thought about that for a minute. “How come you’re not mad I punched you? Mom didn’t like it, I can tell you that.”

“I don’t think Moms are supposed to like things like that. Tell me something, do any of the other children call you a bastard? Or even some of the adults?” Marcail nodded, fists clenched. “I’m a bastard too, only I knew who my father was from the beginning and I knew he didn’t want me with him. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to punch him for that. So yeah, I know _exactly_ how you felt. The important thing to remember is that you decide what type of person you will be, not anybody else. As you grow up, you will know what you can do best, what’s important to you, and how you want to act. Don’t let a bunch of people who don’t know you make you feel less than you are.” Even as he said the words, he felt like he could be talking to his younger self at the same time. Maybe it was time to take his own advice. “You don’t feel like punching me again, do you?” Marcail smiled at that and shook his head. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am at that. You have quite a punch; did your mother teach you that?”

“Yeah, she said I shouldn’t start a fight, but I should be able to defend myself,” he looked steadily at Alistair, and then he frowned. “Where is your mother?”

“She died when I was born; she was a servant here at Redcliffe Castle.” Marcail scooted closer and took his hand. A lump rose in Alistair’s throat at the sympathy he received, and thought how much in character Marcail was like Starr. “Marcail, I would like for us to be friends. I understand that you might not want to think of me as your father,” and that thought hurt him somewhere deep inside, “but I hope you are at least willing to be friends.”

Marcail looked up at him and smiled. The smile was pure Starrelena. “OK. Mom says you’re a greyarden, and that means you fight monsters worse than the ones here. Is that right?”

“Yes, I’m a Grey Warden and our job is to fight darkspawn and end the Blight. When I became a Grey Warden, I made a vow, a solemn promise. The walking corpses were bad, but not as bad as the Blight will be if we can’t stop it. So I will have to leave, but I promise to come back.”

What if you die? I don’t want you to die.”

“Me neither, I’ll do my best not to, and as long as I’m alive I promise to come back.” He watched as Marcail accepted that, and then asked “So, what were you and Bevin going to do?”

“We were going to practice cat’pulting. Just in case those monsters come back.”  Alistair nodded. They walked companionably towards the village. “Alistair, are you . . . are you going to marry my mother?” Marcail kept his eyes down as he asked the question.

_“Maker’s breath, how do I answer that one?”_ thought Alistair. In a secret part of his heart, though, the idea was not unattractive. “Marcail, your mother is my best friend, but we haven’t seen each other in years. We need to get to know each other again, learn all about what has happened in those years. Marriage is a very special relationship; you have to be ready to share everything, much more than just friends, to like each other in a special way. We’ve been apart for too many years and need to get to know each other again.” Marcail still looked at the ground.

Alistair stopped and kneeled down so he could look at Marcail. “Marcail, your mother is a wonderful woman. I hope that she finds somebody she can be happy with, and that will be good to you,” he suppressed a twinge of jealousy at the thought. “I’m not saying it will never be me, but I am not going to make you a promise I might not be able to keep. That’s not fair to either of us. I _can_ promise, that no matter what, I am still going to be your father and that will not change; and I never want to do anything to hurt your mother or jeopardize our friendship. Are you okay with that?”

“I guess,” said Marcail. “Let’s go.”

Alistair got up and they continued. He really hoped he had said the right thing to Marcail, if he messed things up Starr was going to box his ears.


	9. Much to Consider

After a cold but welcome and filling midday meal, Teagan came up to Alistair, “If you’re finished, Alistair, I’ll show you to the room we prepared for you, in case you want to get some rest before tonight.” Alistair agreed, ruffled Marcail’s hair, and left with Teagan. As they made their way upstairs, Teagan cleared his throat. “So, did you and Starr have a chance to talk, to catch up?”

“Yes, we did. Well, I guess we haven’t caught up on everything, but she did tell me about Marcail. In fact, I’m glad we have this opportunity to speak. I want to formalize that relationship, make it official that I’m Marcail’s father. What do I need to do?” Alistair was determined that Marcail not suffer as he had.

Teagan looked at Alistair, “The best solution would be to marry his mother and acknowledge him as your son at the same time. I take it that is not what you mean?” He was a bit disappointed, but merely looked at Alistair in query. Alistair hesitated for a long moment before shrugging his shoulders. _“Well,”_ thought Teagan, _“that’s not a ‘No’ anyway. Maybe it’s for the best. They both have a lot to think about.”_ To Alistair he said, “I’m no expert, but I think a letter of acknowledgement should be enough, two copies, one for Starr and Marcail, and one to give to the Revered Mother. This afternoon, I’ll look through Eamon’s study and see if anything in his library might help us. Here’s your room.”

“Thanks, Teagan, I think I will get some sleep.” Alistair slipped into the room and removed his armor with relief. He got his leather armor ready to put on for later, he didn’t think he would need the heavy stuff just to keep watch over Connor. He could clean it while he was keeping watch. Stripped down to his smallclothes, he climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately, images of Starr and Marcail dancing through his head.

He woke several hours later to a light tapping on the door. “Just a minute,” he called. He slipped on his britches and opened the door to Starr and a tray loaded with food. As his stomach rumbled, he wasn’t sure which sight was more appetizing. Stepping aside he motioned her inside, “Come on in; let me take that for you. Is it all for me?” He sniffed appreciatively.

Starr couldn’t remember how to talk. For some reason she hadn’t expected to see him only half dressed. She kept sneaking glances at his chest, all muscled and a little hairy. She walked inside, berating herself, _“You’re being an idiot. Of course, he wouldn’t be sleeping in his armor. It’s just Stair. It’s just a bare-chested Stair. Pull yourself together.”_ She put the tray down, her back to him, her hands trembling very slightly as she took some dishes off the tray, and she explained, “Some of it is for you, some for Morrigan. I thought I would save you a trip to the kitchen. You can go ahead and eat; I’ll come back and pick up the dishes later.” She turned around and promptly forgot what she was going to say next. Alistair had padded up behind her, eagerly following the food. He was close enough that her breasts brushed his chest when she turned; the contact sent a tingle all the way down her spine to her toes. She didn’t hear a word he said through the confusion in her brain; she could only watch his lips move.

Alistair watched her walk ahead of him with the food. He couldn’t help but admire the view. Walking up behind her, he caught his breath when she turned around; mesmerized by the contact he was still for a moment. Collecting himself somewhat, he said, “Th-thank you, Starr. You didn’t have to trouble yourself.” He inclined his head to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned her head at the same time and his kiss landed half on her mouth. Her lips trembled, and she gasped but didn’t move her head away. Alistair was incapable of thinking, or doing anything but accepting the unconscious invitation. He moved his lips to completely cover hers, shyly kissing her, heat pouring through him as she returned his kiss, just as shyly.

Starr started to panic. _“I can’t do this!”_ She put her arms on his chest and pushed him back. She looked up at him, at the heat in his eyes, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” turning around she gathered up the tray with Morrigan’s food. Alistair stepped back, concerned.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice husky.

“No, oh, no, Alistair. It’s me, I’m wrong, I have to go.” She fled. There was no other word for it.

Alistair watched her go, brooding, until the smell of food reminded him he needed to eat. As good as it was he didn’t really taste it. He could taste Starr; he could still feel her lips on his, his body still flushed. He remembered his dreams. He may not have any experience with women, but he knew he wasn’t mistaken about her responding to him. He cheered up a bit when he remembered how she kept admiring his chest. _“Whatever is bothering her, I’ll just have to get her to tell me.”_ Having made up his mind, he was finally able to enjoy his food. _“I am going to miss this, Starr is a fantastic cook.”_

Starr kicked herself mentally for being an idiot. She composed herself and took Morrigan her dinner. She asked after Connor and the witch told her that there was no change. She sat down against the wall while Morrigan ate. She tried to ask her about herbs and plants that grew in the Korcari Wilds, but Morrigan ignored all her efforts at conversation. That was fine with Starr; she had a lot to think about. She leaned back, eyes closed.

Morrigan looked at Starr. She refused to admit to herself that she was actually curious about another human being, especially a woman who was a friend of that fool, Alistair. She would admit that it would be a lot harder than ever to eat Alistair’s cooking. Starr was great with food. Both women continued to maintain a weirdly companionable silence until they heard Alistair coming, the armor he carried clanking in his arms. Zevran was following.

Alistair smiled when he saw Starr, it only dimmed a little when he looked at Morrigan. “That was a great meal, Starr. I can’t remember when I last had something that tasted so good.” Then, remembering their kiss, he blushed. Morrigan looked on with interest as Starr blushed and mumbled in reply while gathering up Morrigan’s dishes to take down. Alistair watched her as she left, then organized his armor and sat down. “Any change with Connor?” he asked Morrigan.

“No.” She looked at him a moment. “Alistair, I will probably regret this, but did you walk into a door perchance?” Alistair looked up at her quizzically.

“Yes, Alistair, tell us. It is not as swollen as earlier today, but I admit to some curiosity myself,” Zevran chimed in, sitting down and getting his blades out to clean.

Alistair looked both sheepish and proud as he replied, “Marcail punched me.”

Zevran and Morrigan looked at him and then burst out laughing. “Alistair,” Morrigan gathered her breath, “why did he punch you?”

“You’ll know soon enough. We told him I was his father, and then he punched me.” Alistair was calm as he started cleaning his armor.

“I can hardly blame him for that. I actually feel sorry for the poor child,” with that parting shot Morrigan walked away.

Zevran continued what he was doing; when Morrigan was gone, he looked at Alistair. “You do not seem upset, Alistair. Most people do not take kindly to being punched.”

“Well, it’s not as if I don’t understand what he’s been going through. They all know he’s a bastard. I remember how other people treated me, and how much I would have liked the opportunity to kick my father in his royal ass for abandoning me. How could I blame him for wanting to do the same to me?” Alistair paused a moment, remembering how he had felt, and sometimes still felt. “However, tomorrow I’ll work with Teagan to formally acknowledge him as my son. And I promised Marcail that no matter what I would _always_ be his father.”

“Would it not be simpler to marry his mother? She seems fond of you, and I can think of worse things than marrying such a beautiful woman who cooks like she does.” Zevran kept his face blank, but he was really curious what Alistair’s response would be.

“She _is_ a good cook,” is all Alistair would say.

“Very well, Alistair. I will say no more. I will just admire her silently, her beauty, her figure, her eyes and hair, her magnificent bosom which is even more magnificent than the magical bosom of Wynne . . . .” Alistair refused to rise to the bait, but Zevran thought he would explode if his face got any redder. Chuckling, Zevran stood. “I will leave you to your thoughts, my friend. I am off to get my beauty sleep. Perhaps tomorrow will be my lucky day.”

Alistair scowled as he continued to scour his armor. Zevran’s footsteps faded and he was alone with his thoughts. He used his templar training to reach out with his mind, the alarms were untouched and all was quiet with Connor and Arl Eamon. He picked up another piece and began cleaning it. His motions slowed as he thought about Starr and Marcail, _‘“Alistair, are you . . . are you going to marry my mother?”’_ kept repeating itself in his head. He thought about his dreams, and then later with Starr. _“She likes me; I can’t be mistaken about_ that _. I can see us 20, 30 years from now, Marcail all grown up, with children of his own. Would it be so bad? We’re friends, we like each other. A lot of marriages start with a lot less. But what if we ruin our friendship and end up hating each other?”_ He thought about it the rest of the long night.


	10. Saving a Child

In the morning, after breakfast, Alistair found himself alone with Starr. They had the kitchen all to themselves. Nervously, Alistair spoke up, “Starr, do you have a minute? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Starr hadn’t slept last night, thinking of the events of the previous day. She turned tired eyes to Alistair, and smiled. “What is it, Alistair? You can’t be ready for a snack already, can you? You just finished breakfast.”

“No, it isn’t that. Sit down, please,” Alistair waited until Starr sat down, then sat next to her and took hold of her hands. “Starr, we’ve been friends a long time, and now we ‘have a child’ together. Marcail is great, and you are obviously a good mother. There’s something between us, I’m not sure what it is, but I know you feel it too. I can see us together years from now. Many people start married life with less than that,” as Starr’s eyes got wide; he rushed on, “Starrelena Feyorlin, will you marry me?”

Starr pulled her hands from his and shot up, “No, I can’t, I can’t marry you; I can’t marry anybody. I, I have to go!” She quickly left the kitchen and castle, leaving Alistair confused.

Alistair continued sitting for a minute, _“Well, I wasn’t expecting that reaction. Why wouldn’t she want to get married? No, why **can’t** she get married? Maker, she’s not married already!” _  He panicked for a second, _“No, that’s not it_. _I am going to find out what’s going on, but I better let her calm down first._ ” Thoughts kept chasing each other in his mind. Getting up he decided to find Teagan and take care of his son. He really liked the sound of that, ‘his son.’

Alistair didn’t have an opportunity to talk to Starr. The morning soon got busy. A scout reported that the mages were on the way. Starr, Bella and Kaitlyn worked quickly to make sure there were refreshments available for the comfort of Connor’s benefactors, Elissa and the others. Morrigan joined Teagan, Isolde and Alistair in the hall, assuring them that Connor was still calm. Zevran whiled away the time flirting outrageously with Starr, Bella and Kaitlyn, which succeeded in irritating both Alistair and Teagan.

During the activity, Marcail and Bevin were able to sneak in and hide themselves in the hall where they could see everything. After all, Connor was their friend, they wanted to make sure he was all right, besides, they might never get the opportunity to see a bunch of mages performing magic again. Soon, the mages were here. Bevin and Marcail looked at each other in bemusement; they were all wearing dresses, even the men! They turned their attention back to the hall.

The older woman who came to Redcliffe with the Wardens lay on the floor, they saw Marcail’s mother come in with some cushions for her comfort, and Lady Isolde scowling and wringing her hands. The remaining mages gathered in a circle and began waving their arms and chanting. The boys held their breath in anticipation and watched as the air around the mages seemed to shimmer and sparkle. Elissa, Alistair, Starr and the others remained on the edges of the room, watching intently. The guards that came with the mages kept their hands on their swords, but the boys couldn’t figure out why. Marcail thought they must be uncomfortable with those buckets on their heads, and how could they see properly? What’s the use of being prepared to fight if you can’t see everything? Marcail didn’t think that was very smart at all and promptly dismissed them.

The boys kept waiting for something else to happen, but they were disappointed. Finally, the mages relaxed, some sagged, and Alistair helped the old lady off the floor. When Teagan told the mages that Starr had arranged a meal for their benefit, one of the mages, a blond man, took Starr’s hand and brought it to his lips and exclaimed that she was the perfect woman: beautiful and kind. As the boys came out of their hiding place, the First Enchanter intervened before Alistair’s scowl could become permanent, “Anders, that’s enough, you’re embarrassing the lady.” Turning to Starr, he smiled kindly, “I’m sure we would all appreciate a good meal.”

Marcail and Bevin ran up to the First Enchanter before they could leave, “Are you done, is Connor ok? Can we go see him?” The boys anxiously waited for his reply.

“Marcail Alistair Feyorlin, have you and Bevin been here the whole time?” Starr demanded, turning from the over-friendly mage to look at her son, hands on her hips. “You know very well you aren’t supposed to be here.” She waited, eyes stern, for an answer.

Marcail knew he was in trouble when his mother used all his names. He looked up at her pleadingly, “Mom, he’s our friend. We need to know he’s ok, please?”

Bevin nodded his head and chimed in, “Please, Aunt Starr,” and waited for her to reply.

Starr softened; she bent down and kissed both boys on their heads, making them turn red with embarrassment. “The two of you have good hearts, Connor is fine and he’s going to need his friends. However, you still weren’t supposed to be here. So now, you are both going to help serve dinner; if you do a good job, you can take some sandwiches, milk and cookies up to his room for all three of you. Understand?” The boys weren’t happy, but they nodded. It could have been a lot worse.

Starr‘s mouth twitched as she heard Marcail ask Anders why he was wearing a dress, and if Connor would have to wear one too. Lady Isolde had already gone to see her son, which gave her the added benefit of not being in the company of the mages. Starr took the First Enchanter’s arm and led him to the dining hall, following Teagan and Wynne. Everybody enjoyed the meal, relieved that Connor was going to be fine. Afterwards, Kaitlyn helped the boys carry food to Connor’s room while the mages and templars took their leave. Anders whirled Starr around in a brief dance and asked her to marry him before the templars could hustle him away. Wynne shook her head in amusement as she watched her fellow mages go back to the Tower.

Teagan went upstairs with the wardens to meet with Isolde and check on Eamon. Starr and Bella took care of the dining hall and kitchen, Starr packing up some items for traveling. Bella looked over at Starr and teased, “So, what did you think of Anders? I thought he was rather attractive. He even proposed, were you tempted?”

“Must be something in the water,” mumbled Starr, refusing to look at her friend.

“Oh?” Bella waited.

“Alistair asked me to marry him earlier this morning,” Starr admitted, grudgingly.

Bella looked at Starr, sadness in her eyes. “You refused, didn’t you? You deserve to be happy, Starr.”

“Of course I refused. And you know why. Alistair deserves better, somebody whole who can make him happy, I can’t be that.” Starr looked so miserable that Bella went over and gave her a hug.

“Starr, you’re scared to try. You need to talk to him; he seems like a good man. Give him a chance; don’t deny both of you because you’re afraid. I don’t think he would disappoint you. I can tell you one thing, I would give my back teeth to have Teagan look at me the way Alistair looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.” Bella blushed; she hadn’t meant to admit her feelings for the nobleman. “At least think about it.”

Neither woman realized that Zevran was nearby and had heard the entire conversation. _“So, Alistair proposed. Poor Alistair, if he is really romantically interested in the lovely Starr, he has bigger obstacles than his own ineptitude.”_ Zevran tried to push back the unwelcome feelings of concern, and quietly strolled away. _“Zevran, you are letting the first good food since you arrived in Ferelden mess with your judgment. It is none of your concern, except as amusement.”_

It was fortunate that Zevran moved away when he did, as Starr went upstairs to get Marcail. She stood in the doorway and watched the three boys as they chatted about this and that. When Connor got quiet, Marcail and Bevin talked or played until Connor was ready to join back in. She noticed that Connor looked tired, “Boys, you can talk to Connor again tomorrow, when none of you are having lessons or doing chores. Right now, it’s time to leave.” Marcail and Bevin told Connor they would see him later, and left with Starr. Marcail was quiet, when they got outside Bevin ran home.

“Are you leaving now?” Marcail asked, lower lip quivering slightly. “Do you really have to go?” He looked up at his mother, hoping she had changed her mind. Starr walked with him over to the docks and they sat down.

“Soon. I love you, Marcail, more than anything in the world. I would like nothing better than to stay with you, but the Blight will destroy everything if somebody doesn't stop it. As your mother, I have a responsibility to keep you safe. Teagan and Bella can take care of you in Redcliffe, Bella loves you and Teagan cares about you. But, they can’t help with the darkspawn, I can. If I didn’t think the best way to keep you safe was to help the Wardens, I wouldn’t leave. Remember when I went to Ostagar? Remember our star?” Starr waited until he looked at her and nodded. “I promise you, every night I will look up at that star and think of you, tell you I love you. Will you do the same?” Marcail promised and they hugged each other, tightly.

That’s how Alistair found them. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, he felt overwhelmed by the feelings engendered by the sight of the two of them, and the knowledge that he would be leaving shortly. _“Maker’s breath, I wish I could stay. I can’t believe she named him after me, Marcail Alistair. I like the sound of that.”_ He walked forward and sat down next to them, then cleared his throat. “Starr, it’s time,” he said hoarsely. “Marcail, I wish I could stay and get to know more about you. I am going to miss you, more than you know.” His eyes filled with tears when Marcail hugged him and sniffled. He blinked them back, “I want to let you both know something, I am so happy to be your father, Marcail. I wrote a letter acknowledging, telling the world, that I am your father. Bann Teagan currently has your copy; the Revered Mother has the other copy. I want you to have proof that anybody can see, in case I’m not able to say anything and you need it.” He didn’t want to think about the possibility that he might not be there for Marcail and Starr, his family.

Starr leaned against Alistair and laid her head on his shoulder, Alistair put his arm around her shoulders, loosely embracing both of them. Marcail looked at him, eyes wide, “Does this mean I can call you Dad?”

“I would like nothing better,” Alistair smiled at him.

“Mom, you need to tell him about our star, so I can talk to him, too. Is Fen going with you?”

“Of course I’ll tell him about the star. Don’t you want Fen to stay here?” Starr looked him in the eye, seeing how important this was to him.

“He’ll help you and Dad. You know a lot of people here don’t like him. He’s going to be awfully upset with you if he’s here and you’re not.”

“Fen?” queried Alistair.

“I’ll explain later,” Starr told him. To Marcail, “If it will make you feel better, Fen can come with us.” Marcail nodded vigorously. “Well, that’s decided. I guess we should go back to the castle, now, they’re probably waiting for us.” Holding hands, Marcail in the middle, the three of them slowly walked to meet the others.


	11. On the Road

As they left Redcliffe, Starr and Alistair were quiet. Alistair replayed the last scene with Marcail in his head: Teagan and Bella standing with Marcail, Kaitlyn and Bevin not far behind, seeing them off. Marcail broke away and came running after them, calling “Dad! Dad!” Alistair turned around and caught him as Marcail jumped up into his arms. Marcail whispered to him, “Dad, you will take care of Mom, right? Promise? She’s always looking after me, but nobody ever looks after her. You will, though, right?”

Alistair looked into his eyes, and a look of masculine understanding passed between them, “I promise. She’s important to me, too,” he whispered back. “You help Teagan and Connor while we’re gone, okay?” Marcail nodded. Unable to resist, Alistair kissed him on the forehead, “You are a son to be proud of, Marcail Alistair Feyorlin. I can’t wait to see you again.” He put Marcail down and watched as he ran back to Bella. Only then did he turn around and rejoin the others. He just smiled when Starr looked at him with questions in her eyes. “Guy stuff” was all he said. Starr just rolled her eyes.

Near the woods outside Redcliffe, Starr stepped away from the group and let out a piercing whistle. Everybody stopped in surprise and looked at her. She calmly ignored them and looked into the nearby woods. The largest wolf anybody had ever seen came bounding out and stopped in front of her. “Fen, how would you like to hunt some darkspawn with us?” Alistair could have sworn the wolf laughed. “Glad to get out of Redcliffe, I see. Let me introduce you to your new traveling companions. I believe you already know Griffon.” Starr made sure Fen could identify all of her new companions. When she got to Alistair, Fen sniffed him suspiciously and growled, as if warning him to watch his step. “Fen!” Starr remonstrated. Fen stopped growling, but still watched Alistair as if he were an interloper.

Walking on, Morrigan smirked, “Well, Alistair, it appears as if your friend’s wolf doesn’t approve of you. Not too surprising, wolves are very smart animals.”

“Tis true, dear Morrigan,” purred Zevran, “but in this case I think Fen sees a rival for Starr’s affections. I believe I am insulted that he does not see me in the same way.”

“Careful, elf, wolves have been known to eat crows, especially when there is nothing remotely appetizing and they are desperate. Or annoyed enough.”

Leliana chimed in, “The young mage who flirted with Starr is lucky that Fen was not in the castle. He was very charming when he whirled her into a dance, no?” Leliana asked mischievously, looking at Alistair out of the side of her eyes. “He is very spontaneous, is he not? And quite attractive. What was his name, Wynne? Anders?” 

“That’s right,” Wynne replied, “Anders may have been a little giddy because he was out of the Circle. He is a very gifted healer, but still young. I must admit he did seem ‘enchanted’ with Starr.” At the unexpected pun from the older woman, some grinned and some groaned. “I agree that Fen’s absence was probably to Anders’ benefit.” Only Alistair and Starr seemed uncomfortable with the conversation. Wynne continued on, “How long has Fen been traveling with you? I didn’t think wolves would do that.”

“Yes, I was wondering that as well,” Elissa asked. She liked Starr, but definitely wanted to know more about her, especially since Alistair seemed smitten.

“No, you’re correct.” Starr motioned to Fen and he left the group to begin scouting. “I encountered Fen when he was a pup, a few months before Marcail was born. His leg was hurt and he was unable to travel with his pack. We, I guess you could say we bonded. My grandmother used to tell me that some members of her family had a gift, an affinity for animals. Whether that’s true or it’s just the circumstances of our meeting, Fen has chosen to stay with us all these years. We’re family now,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What is your plan, where are we going first?” she asked Elissa in an obvious maneuver to change the conversation.

“First, we’re going to Denerim to see this Brother Genitivi. I don’t know if the Urn of Sacred Ashes is real or not, but we need Arl Eamon’s or, if the unfortunate occurs, Bann Teagan’s support and good will. The best way to ensure that is to search for the Urn. I want to do it for Arl Eamon anyway, he was a friend of my father, but having an army composed of dwarves, elves **and** men from a respected noble will be to our benefit and make our job easier. So, try to find a cure, and then take our treaties to the dwarves and elves.”

“I may be able to help with the last." Starr replied, after a moment debating with herself.

“You know where they are?”

“No, I have some ideas where some of the clans might be now. I know one of the clans pretty well. I lived with them until two years ago. If we’re fortunate, we’ll find them first.”

“What? You didn’t tell me that,” Alistair interjected. “Wait a minute, the hunters you told me about, they were Dalish, weren’t they?” After Starr nodded, he continued, smiling “We really do have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oooh, yes, I would very much like to hear you tell what it was like living with the Dalish,” Leliana said eagerly. Starr’s noncommittal response didn't deter her; she loved stories and in her head was already composing a ballad about Stair and his silver Starr.

“While we’re in Denerim, we’ll need to stock up on supplies. Redcliffe, understandably, did not have as much as we needed. You should talk to Bodahn; he’s a merchant who travels with us for safety. In exchange for our protection on the road, he gives us a discount on his supplies. He may have some of the things you’ll need for camp.”

“I thought you already had supplies for camp, didn’t we bring all that with us?” asked Alistair.

Elissa smiled happily, “Starr has agreed to be the permanent camp cook, so –" she got no further as Starr was seized in a hug by Leliana at the same time Zevran kissed her hand several times over. She bent over laughing at Starr’s total bewilderment at the reaction to her announcement. Cries of “Wonderful,” “No more stodgy grey stew,” “Bellissima, you have made me a happy man,” “My cooking is not that bad,” “I approve,” “Does this mean more cookies?” and frenzied, happy barking. At the commotion Fen came racing back, only to sit in perplexed astonishment at the antics of the humans and mabari.

Finally, Starr disentangled herself, “I guess this means you approve. Is Alistair’s cooking really that bad?” Universal groans, except from Alistair himself, was answer enough. Leliana proceeded to tell her about Alistair’s lamb stew, how he put the ingredients in the pot and cooked them until they were all the same grey color. Alistair just shrugged, acknowledging that Leliana was correct when Starr looked over at him in disbelief. “Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do. I’ll go talk to Bodahn right now.” She started toward the merchant following at a slight distance.

Oblivious to the knowing looks behind him, Alistair caught up to her, “Wait a minute, Starr, I’ll go with you and introduce you.” As he fell into step beside her, he found himself defending his cooking. He finally admitted he was probably better at washing dishes than cooking. They often punished him at the Chantry, which usually meant washing lots and lots of dishes. Somehow, he didn’t mind when Starr suggested that with his expertise he could help her with the cleaning up. It would give them the time he needed for them to get fully reacquainted.


	12. Starry Night

The night was clear, the stars were bright and the moon was full. Starr sat near her tent, looking up at the sky with a book sitting idle in her lap. Dinner was finished, she’d banked her cook fires and completed her prep for the morning. A nearby shadow moved to her side and sat next to her. “Hello, Zevran,” was all she said, not looking around.

“I must be losing my touch, bellissima, if you knew I was here.” Zevran sounded a touch put out.

Starr glanced at him sitting, or rather lounging, next to her. “I’m a good scout, however I doubt you were in complete ‘sneaky assassin mode,’ as Stair puts it.”

“Too true, I would not want the most lovely addition to our group to think I was so ungrateful as to kill her right after such a delicious meal. There are so many better ways I could thank you. Perhaps one of my famous massages or something more interesting, yes?” Zevran purred. He knew Alistair would be back soon, and would see the two of them together and think the worst of him. He just couldn’t help himself, Starr drew him and he so very much enjoyed annoying her handsome young templar.

“No.”

 “A beautiful woman, a starry night, yet I am all alone. Ah, bellissima, if your cooking wasn’t so divine I would be in a deep pit of despair, I assure you. What are you doing, sitting here by yourself? I must admit, I enjoyed watching you work your knives as you chopped, sliced and diced. It was exciting to see the flashes of fire on metal, the moon on your hair, the amazing speed of your hands. The Crows surely would have tried to recruit you, deadly beauty and deadly blades make such an irresistible combination.”

“I’m waiting for Alistair,” Starr answered him, ignoring the rest of his statement. She really didn’t know what to make of the Antivan. His excessive flattery confused her.

“Now I am truly crushed. Surely –" and got no farther.

“Let me help, with the crushing part I mean.” Alistair was grumpy as he sat down on the other side of Starr and glared at the assassin. “Don’t you have something to do, Zevran? Somewhere else?”

“Fine, fine, I shall go. Let none say Zevran Arainai stays where he isn’t wanted.” Standing up he took hold of Starr’s hand and kissed it with seductive gallantry. “Should you change your mind, my dear Starr, I am available for your pleasure day” and he smirked as Alistair fumed, “or night.”

“I still don’t understand why Elissa enlisted him,” Alistair mumbled. Alistair told himself he wasn’t jealous, that there was no reason for him to be jealous. He determined to put the elf out of his mind and stretched out on the ground, hands under his head, and looked at the sky. “Do you remember how we used to lie down and look at the stars when the nights were warm?”

“Sometimes Mom and Dad would join us,” Starr stretched out beside him and smiled as she remembered those nights.

They were quiet, relaxed in the moment, content to be sharing the peace. Alistair finally broke the silence in a low voice. “Starr, how do you do it?”

“I remember what Mom used to do. I have her recipes as well as Nana-lin’s, you know. It’s not hard to follow directions.” Starr was perplexed. Alistair had proven to have no talent for cooking when he ‘helped’ her earlier in the evening. His ability with food was strictly on the consumption side. He certainly wasn’t interested in her improvisation skills, or how she experimented with different tastes and textures.

“That’s not what I meant. I am forced to concede that my cooking ability is limited to being able to fill my stomach. I think the best way I can help you is to set up your tent for you, and your cooking fires. And tote water and clean, of course.” He couldn’t help but snicker at her look of relief. “I mean, how you are able to leave Marcail. I feel torn, I want to go back and stay with him, and I just met him a few days ago. But you’re his mother; it must be so much harder for you.”

Starr took a few minutes to get her thoughts and emotions in order before she replied. “I thought the hardest thing I had ever done was leave him when I went to Ostagar. This time was harder, because I knew what it would be like and that this time would be longer. He’s been my reason for living, for striving, even surviving. And that’s why I’m able to leave, hard as it is to do. I know I have an unusual set of skills, fighting skills that will help you. The Blight needs to be stopped or it will threaten him and his entire world. I won’t let that happen. Bella loves him, Teagan has been a good friend and has agreed to mentor him and offer his protection while I’m gone. I know they will take care of him in Redcliffe while I take care of him from outside of it. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to protect him?”

“Hey, I’m not doubting you. He wouldn’t be such a great guy if you weren’t such a great mom. You know, it’s still a little weird to think of you as a mom, but I’m getting off track. I guess I mean, how do you cope?”

With the hand closest to Alistair, she pointed up to the sky. “See that grouping over there, the one that looks kind of like a bird? Now look at the bright star at the end of the beak. That’s our star. Every night I look at that star, think of Marcail and tell him I love him. If I can’t see it, I just look where it should be. Every time he looks at it, he knows I’m thinking of him. Although, the sense of connection probably helps me more than it does him. He wanted you to know about it, so you could feel that connection and use it, if you want. Maybe it’s silly, but sometimes I feel as if the star really is allowing us to communicate, a sky letter.”

Alistair took her hand in his, “I like that. It’s not silly at all. One of the things I always loved about you was the way you could make me see things in a different and interesting way.” He held onto her hand when she shifted uncomfortably at the word ‘love.’ “I remember when you pointed out how that one boy who teased us walked like a constipated donkey. Nothing he said ever bothered me after that, I could never take him seriously.” He smiled to himself as she relaxed. He watched Marcail’s star, and thought about the boy and his mother. “ _I promise you, Marcail, I will do everything in my power to protect your mother and bring her back to you. I pray the Maker lets me come back as well so I can be a father to you in practice, not just on paper. For the first time in a long time, I have something other than duty to live for. Thank you. You and your mother have given me the best gift ever; I’m a DAD. I won’t waste it. I already love you so much.”_

He was quiet for so long that Starr rolled to her side and leaned over to look at him. “Are you okay, Stair, you’ve been awfully quiet?” she asked with concern. She automatically placed her free hand on his chest and began stroking him in a soothing manner.

He looked up at her, and smiled. “Just talking to Marcail.” He kept looking at her, awed by her beauty in the light of the stars and moon. “Maker’s breath, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, eyes darkening. He didn’t dare move as she kept looking at him, her hand on his chest trembling. She felt the pull of his gaze, the beating of his heart and leaned into him without thought, not realizing it was her own desire driving her. She was a breath away from kissing him when she drew back, confused. Alistair wouldn’t release her hand, so she turned her attention back to the stars. They were much safer for her peace of mind. Alistair was grateful for the discipline of his templar training. Whatever demons were causing her pain, he knew he had to be patient and follow her lead. He prayed he would recognize the right moment to talk to her. When he felt ready to speak without making a fool of himself, he asked her, “What is the book you have with you? Is it something I could borrow when you’re done?”

Relieved at the change of subject Starr disengaged her hand and sat up, looking for the book in question. “It’s a journal for Marcail. I decided to write letters to him in it about our travels. Whenever we are in Redcliffe, I’ll give it to him and start a new one when we leave. Even if he doesn’t want to read it, I’ll feel better.”

“Can I write in it as well? What should I say?”

“You take this one, I haven’t started yet. I have several blank ones in my pack, I’ll get another one for me to use. You could tell him about being in the chantry, or being a templar and a grey warden. I know he wants to know more about you, from you. You can write about our travels as well, at least what you think would interest a 7-year old. He loves histories; this would be a kind of history in progress.”

“Thanks, I think I’ll do that.” Judging that now would be a good moment to leave, for both their sakes; he sat up and turned towards her. He cupped her chin in his hand and leaned forward to lightly brush his lips on her cheek. Standing up, he said good night and walked back to his tent, feeling her eyes on him as he left.


	13. Morrigan

One evening they camped earlier than usual so they could rest, repair armor, etc. Morrigan was apart from all the others, as usual. She noticed that Fen allowed Alistair to set up his tent much closer to Starr’s, but on the other side of the cook fires. She shook her head to herself, wondering how Starr could know Alistair all those years and still want his company, much less touch him. She sniffed at the thought. She supposed the dumb warden had his uses, but they were surely limited.

While she was looking over her store of herbs and potions, Starr approached her. “Morrigan, I was wondering if you would help me with something.” Starr waited for Morrigan to look up, even if it was hardly inviting. “While I was scouting in the Korcari Wilds, I noticed some unfamiliar plants. Would you help me identify them and their uses?”

Morrigan pondered for a moment, looking at Starr she replied, “How am I to do that? You are obviously smarter than that templar; surely you have noticed that we are not in the Korcari Wilds?” She was surprised when Starr merely grinned at her, most people would have been glad to leave her alone.

“I drew sketches and made some notes in this journal. I thought you could look at them with me and see if you recognize them. I would prefer to know my poisons before I pick them.” Starr pulled out the notebook in question and waited patiently.

Morrigan huffed, “Very well. Let me take a look.” She took the journal, and sat down. Starr sat down next to her, but not close enough for Morrigan to complain. She had noticed pretty quickly that the dark-haired mage did not like being too close to other people. Starr noticed and approved of the organization Morrigan applied to her supplies.

Turning the pages of the journal, Morrigan was impressed with the details of the drawings, and the descriptions of the uses for the different parts of the plants. “You appear to have an excellent eye, these drawings are quite useful. I presume the plants you wish to know about are towards the back?” Starr showed her where the first plant in question was in the notebook, admitting that she had to draw them from memory. Under Morrigan’s direction, she corrected the drawings where necessary and they spent the next hour talking about those plants and other herbs and how to use them. Morrigan was surprised to find that she enjoyed the conversation with Starr. Starr didn’t feel the need to chatter incessantly when silence fell, and she spoke intelligently.

She flipped through the journal when Starr was distracted by Fen arguing with Griffon. There were several sketches of their companions, especially of Alistair. The sketches seemed to catch the essence of the people portrayed, which was a rare talent. As Starr turned back to Morrigan, Morrigan flipped to a page that depicted people she didn’t recognize. “Who are they?”

“I, I don’t know,” Starr was troubled as she took back her journal. Morrigan thought she detected a hint of fear behind her eyes, and uncharacteristically regretted that she had asked the question. “Thank you for your help, Morrigan.” She smiled, but it wasn’t quite as easy as it had been. She hesitated, “Morrigan, I heard part of your conversation with Elissa about your abilities. Are you really a shape shifter?”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes, “Yes, is that a problem?” she replied arrogantly.

“No, not exactly. Not for me,” a light flush stained Starr’s cheeks before she continued. “It’s just, umm, that if you can shift into a wolf, you should be careful.” Morrigan was starting to get impatient. Ill at ease, Starr continued, “Fen has been ready to find a mate for the last couple of years, I don’t know if he would recognize you in wolf form. I would really hate for, umm, complications to arise.”

Taken aback, Morrigan assured Starr, “I appreciate the warning. While we are traveling together, I will refrain from that particular form. Will that be sufficient?”

“I certainly hope so,” Starr’s mouth quirked. “I really don’t want to imagine any other possibility. Thanks again for your help, Morrigan. I enjoyed our conversation. If you have any foods that you prefer, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.” With a wave, she strode off to her tent.

Morrigan watched her leave, deep in thought. Watching Fen greet Starr, she shuddered. She had no desire to be that close to any of her companions, especially the four-legged ones. She turned back to her herbs and mechanically went about her tasks. She wondered if Alistair appreciated that there were many mysteries surrounding his friend. She sniffed in scorn, the answer to that was ‘not likely.’ What she was less sure about was whether she was interested in the answers for herself.


	14. Bicker, Bicker, Bicker

They had been on the road for a few days and settled into the new routine. Elissa was glad Starr had joined them. She still didn’t know much about her, but she had proven her value many times over. Having a cook, a superb cook, made more of a difference to the group’s well-being and morale than she would have thought possible. It made her appreciate everything Nan had done for her family; she regretted that she hadn’t appreciated her more while she was alive. Starr was also an excellent scout; she must have received that training from the Dalish.

Today the weather was clear and they were traveling through an open area, so Starr stayed with the group. Even Fen didn’t leave the group much. Elissa fell into step beside Starr, “Marcail seems like a great kid. He reminds me a little bit of my nephew, Oren.” Sorrow washed over her face, Starr briefly touched her arm in sympathy. Elissa sighed, “Oren loved stories of griffons and dragons. He wanted Fergus to bring him back a sword.”

“Marcail is interested in all sorts of legends as well as history; he loved hearing Hahren Tardel tell stories about sylvans, elven history, the Avvars, and dragons and griffons. Old battles were his favorites, though. You know, Fergus had us all keeping an eye out for a suitable sword.” Starr laughed, “We even had bets about the type of sword and who would find it. I’m glad they assigned me to Fergus’ unit as soon as he came to Ostagar. He’s a good leader; he respected all of us, and never let anybody disrespect the women in his command. Sometimes we talked about Oren and Marcail; we happened to be the only ones who had children. It created a bond between us.”

“If he didn’t respect women my mother would have very decisively let him know he was wrong. I think you would have liked her.” She looked at Starr, “You’re a beautiful woman; did you encounter a lot of problems?” Elissa wanted to know.

“Not too many, but enough to make me glad to be in your brother’s unit. Most of them were pretty harmless. I think one of them was another Grey Warden recruit, Daveth.”

“Oh yes, I remember Daveth. I think flirting was his hobby, not that he would have turned down anybody who flirted back. You’re right, he wasn’t subtle but he was harmless. I liked him; he was refreshing after traveling with Duncan. I know he was totally committed to defeating the Blight.” All during their conversation, they could hear Morrigan and Alistair bickering in the background. They were getting louder.

“–really Alistair, if the Warden weren’t with you, you would still be wandering around the Korcari Wilds waiting for something to swoop down on you. I find it hard to believe you’re able to dress yourself in the morning,” Morrigan was in full snide mode.

“Why don’t you turn yourself into a toad or something? The croaking would be quieter.” He retorted.

“For you, that was positively witty.”

Starr looked at Elissa, “Are they always like that?”

Elissa sighed, “more often than not. They’ve been at odds since they met.”

“Hmmm,” Starr mused. A mischievous twinkle came into her eye and, raising her voice, “Elissa, we’ll be in Denerim in a few days, correct?”

“Ye-es,” Elissa replied, wondering what Starr was up to.

“Maybe we can get a room for Morrigan and Alistair so they can ‘resolve their differences.’” Elissa coughed, trying not to laugh while Morrigan and Alistair squawked and protested. “I’ve only heard so much bickering once before. A young girl liked Bevin, but of course, she wouldn’t admit it. Instead, she teased and picked on him constantly. Bicker, bicker, bicker.”

Elissa decided to play along, “I know what you mean. I remember a boy and girl in Highever who used to act like that. They got married two years ago.”

Absolute silence rewarded them. Leliana sidled up to them, “The two of you, you’re so bad.” She tried very hard not to giggle.

Starr simply replied, “It’s nice to hear the birds.”

They traveled the next few miles in relative silence. Leliana had dropped back to talk to Wynne, while Morrigan ignored everybody. Alistair joined Starr and his fellow warden, smiling and looking smug.

Starr looked at him, “What are you smiling about, Alistair? You’re happy about something.”

“You’re a wicked, wicked woman, you know that?” but he smiled as he said it. Starr raised an eyebrow inviting him to elaborate. “I was thinking about what you said earlier.” Now Elissa was looking at him. “And I remembered how much you used to tease me in the months before I left.” Leaning, he chanted in her ear, “You like me; you really, really like me.” Starr opened her mouth to reply, and then just shut it, her face turning bright red. Alistair fell back, whistling happily. He could see that even her ears were red. Mission definitely accomplished.


	15. Zevran and Fate

Zevran was savoring the last of his coffee on this crisp, clear morning. _“Ah, I had almost forgotten what a good cup of coffee tasted like. The celestial Starr is not only a culinary goddess and a beauty beyond compare; she understands coffee like an Antivan. I wonder . . .” a_ nd he indulged himself with various scenarios culminating with him in bed with Starr, with and without the templar. Innocence could be very seductive, especially when so attractively packaged.

_“And now she is coming this way.”_ Zevran smiled and stood as Starr approached them. “I thought the morning could not be more glorious, but your presence has proven me wrong. Have you come to take me up on my offer of a massage?”

Starr smiled but seemed bemused by Zevran, as she usually was. Zevran saw Alistair scowling at them in the distance and smiled more seductively at the beautiful woman in front of him. In a very gallant manner he took her hand in his and, with his other hand on the small of her back, guided her to where he had recently been sitting. “Please, dear lady, you have been working hard on our behalf, sit down and relax. What do you wish of me?” He sat down next to her and casually put his arm around her in a loose embrace. He didn’t have to look to see that Alistair was practically beside himself.

“Umm, thank you,” Starr said once she sat down. “I just wanted to tell you that I made more coffee, and it should be ready soon.”

Starr shifted slightly, leaning on her hands behind her and forcing Zevran to remove his hands from her person. He admired the way she did so without making any comment or making him feel the least bit uncomfortable. Then he was annoyed as he realized she must have endured a lot of unwanted contact to be so discreet at removing it. He realized he didn’t like the thought of other men putting their hands on her, with the possible exception of Alistair. He forced himself to put away those thoughts and simply admired her as she sat next to him, long legs in front, breasts bunched ever so slightly; he was glad she hadn’t put on her armor yet. He could enjoy the subtle lines of her muscles through the light fabric.

Starr cocked her head at him, thoughtfully, “Zevran, for some reason you seem familiar to me, but I can’t quite figure out how. Is this your first trip to Ferelden?” She was more relaxed in his company than he had ever seen her.

“Indeed, it is my first time truly out of Antiva, if you don’t count quick border crossings. Nor did I travel farther south or west than Denerim until I met the Warden. I assure you, my temptress, that I would never forget a vision such as yourself.” Starr looked uncomfortable. Zevran’s interest sharpened. With the memory of the conversation he overheard in Redcliffe, he put more pieces together and he didn’t like the puzzle that was emerging. He kept his expression pleasant and attentive while thoughts whirled in his head.

“Could you tell me about Antiva? What’s it like? I’ve never been out of Ferelden,” Starr asked him.

“Well then, Antiva is warm and inviting, a voluptuous mistress, not cold and harsh like Ferelden. I hail from the glorious capitol, Antiva City. The air is perfumed from the many stalls of the flower vendors. They say flowers are always blooming in Antiva. The buildings glitter in the sun and ocean breezes touch your face.” Zevran paused, thinking of his home, “In the mornings the aroma of good coffee blends with the flowers. Until you, I didn’t think Fereldens knew anything about making coffee, or cooking decent food.”

“Thank you,” Starr looked at Zevran, no shadows or reserve in her manner. “What is the food like in your home? I’ve often wondered how much food differs from one country to another, beyond what’s available. Leliana told me a little about the food in Orlais. There seem to be a lot of sauces hiding what’s underneath, rather like the masks the nobles wear.”

“That is an interesting comparison. Let me see, how would I describe the food of my homeland? Spices, yes, subtle blendings of spices bringing out the flavors of meats and vegetables that are frequently grilled and served over rice or noodles. In Antiva, we have soups and chowders rather than stews. Soups are usually made with a clear broth, except for chowder. The fish chowder, creamy with big chunks of fish is one of my favorites.” Zevran was quiet, thinking of Antiva. He wondered if he would ever see his homeland again. What surprised him was that he wasn’t sure how much that mattered to him anymore.

Starr covered his hand with hers, “I’m sorry, Zevran, I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ll be able to go back one day, I hope.”

Zevran brought her hand to his lips, “Bellissima, you have a tender heart, but do not worry about me. I miss the warmth and foods of Antiva, yes, but I find myself enjoying the people and freedoms of Ferelden. Here, a man or woman can make a new life for themselves; the poor can strive to raise themselves. To be honest, I do not know that I wouldn’t prefer to make Ferelden my home.”

The brilliance of Starr’s smile when she spoke dazzled him, “I’m glad.” She stood and strode back to the cook fires, the coffee and Alistair.

The rest of the day passed quietly enough. Like most days, there were occasional skirmishes with small groups of bandits or darkspawn, but not enough to significantly disrupt their progress. Zevran frequently found himself in conversation with Starr, and was glad to see that she was still much easier in his company than before today and spoke to him as freely as anybody else in their group. What he found interesting was that when Alistair was with them, he seemed more relaxed as well. Oh, he still scowled when he flirted with Starr, or blushed and glared if Zevran said something suggestive to him, but he actually took part in the conversations. Zevran appreciated the young templar, there was something endearing about his naiveté and earnestness. And, if things didn’t work out between Alistair and Starr, maybe he could convince him to hop borders, though he would prefer exploring Starr’s borders. He found it interesting that, even though she obviously had more experience than Alistair did, in many ways she seemed almost as innocent.

That night, after their evening meal, they were all sitting around the main campfire. Even Morrigan deigned to join them. Casual conversation and companionable silences wove a feeling of camaraderie over the group. They were talking about the treaties when Elissa asked Zevran his opinion of the Dalish.

“Well, I know little enough of the Dalish except that my mother was one,” and proceeded to tell about his mother running off with a woodcutter to Antiva City.

Starr had been listening intently, when he got to the part about the woodcutter she exclaimed, jumping up, “That’s it! That’s why you seem so familiar to me, you remind me of my grandmother!”

“Your – your grandmother?!” Zevran was mortified that his voice actually squeaked at the end of the word ‘grandmother.’ Alistair fell off the log, he was laughing so hard, and Morrigan actually doubled over. Sten snorted, Leliana giggled, Wynne chuckled and Elissa had to bite her lips to keep from laughing at Zevran’s expression. Even Griffon and Fen seemed to be laughing in the darkness. Starr just ran to her tent, saying something but he couldn’t hear her over the others.

Starr came back with a book in her hand, the edges of the paper yellowed with age. Kneeling at Zevran’s feet, she put it in his lap and opened it. Zevran wasn’t too much of a ‘grandmother’ not to enjoy the view and feel of her breasts as she moved towards him to show him the book. He ever so subtly shifted his legs so that they tugged on her shirt just enough to lower and widen the opening, expanding his view of her bosom, which really was magnificent. Starr didn’t seem to notice that or just how close her hand was to his groin, she was too excited about what she was showing him. Alistair noticed, and Zevran had the satisfaction of seeing him stop laughing, especially when he decided to place his hand in her beautiful hair and begin stroking.

“This was my Nana-lin’s journal. See here, she’s talking about her older daughter: ‘I wish my daughter could understand that because I married John’ [my grandfather],” Starr added, “‘it doesn’t mean that I don’t still love her father. It’s been two years since he was killed. John was a good friend to him and to our clan; he’s not like the shemlen who try to chase us away. Even Keeper and many of the others accept him and our marriage.’ I remember that Nana-lin used to say that love was constantly expanding. The more you loved, the more love you had to give.”

Starr turned to a later entry, ‘Linella still hasn’t accepted my remarriage, and it’s been three years. I’m losing her despite my efforts and John’s. John even gave up his home so that we could stay with the clan. The fact that I’m pregnant is driving a further wedge between us.’ Starr leaned towards him as she turned the pages, “Here it is.” ‘We are outside Antiva City now, I will be glad to stop traveling for a while. This pregnancy seems harder than when I was carrying Linella. Is it my age, memory softened by time, or the fact that this child will be human? I just don’t know.’

‘We met a woodcutter today; he and Linella seem to get along. My baby girl is growing up. I hope this will help her understand my love for John and her father are not mutually exclusive. Not all humans are the same just as not all elves are the same and not all dwarves are the same. I want us to be a family, all four of us.’

The next entry Starr turned to was tear-stained. She leaned her head on Zevran as she pointed it out, without realizing it he slid his arm down to her waist to hold her against him; he was engrossed in the journal at this point, as was the rest of the group. ‘Linella ran off last night. She left a note saying she was leaving the clan to live with her lover, that they were going to get married. John has been looking for them all day, but can’t find them. Maybe it would be easier if he knew the language, but the humans probably don’t even notice new elves in the city and the elves probably won’t talk to him. Our welcome to this area is worn out, and Keeper won’t let any of us go into the city. Tomorrow the clan returns to Ferelden . . .’ a large splotch of ink covered the rest of the page.

Zevran’s arm tightened almost painfully around her waist. Keeping his emotions out of his voice, even though his thoughts were a thunderstorm of activity, “this is a sad story, and quite a coincidence, but I fail to see how I already felt familiar to you.”

Starr looked through the journal, and then looked Zevran in the eyes, “My grandmother was a talented artist. Welcome to the family, cousin.” She then opened the book and kissed him on the cheek. Zevran looked down to the open page. He could have been looking in a mirror. “This is Nana-lin’s first husband. You can keep the journal as long as you like.”

Starr hugged him, but before she could stand, Zevran stopped her. “Thank you, I will return this to you.” He returned her hug, and whispered in her ear, just loudly enough for the others to hear, “Does this make us _kissing_ cousins, then?” Starr looked at him, perplexed. Zevran smiled, “Never mind, you have given me a great gift, my comely cousin, and much to ponder.” Gracefully he stood and went to his tent.

Once inside his tent, he let down the guard over his emotions. He lay there in the dark, caressing the edges of Nana-lin’s journal, the feel and scent of Starr in his arms lingering. _“Fate is indeed a tricky whore. Starr has given both me and Alistair family. A lifelong connection, at least if I so choose.”_ He continued pondering, _“She welcomed me as family with no reservations at all, even though I am an assassin and grew up among whores. I did not even know I wanted family, yet I will fight to keep this.”_

_“If I pursue Starr as I would any other desirable woman, I think I will lose what I have just gained. Already, this is too precious for me to give up or throw away carelessly.”_

Zevran thought about Starr and Alistair. _“Starr’s heart belongs to Alistair, even though she does not realize it. There is something both sweet and epic about their relationship. And who would have thought I would describe any relationship in that way? I sense a difficult road ahead for them, Alistair will have to fight demons for his lady, shadows from her past hurt her even now. I hope he is strong enough, and man enough to not be daunted.”_ Zevran realized he felt protective of his younger cousin. Her happiness was more important to him than his own desire. _“Perhaps I will even help him, if I think he is worthy. However, it will not hurt for Alistair to know that others find her desirable and worthy, nor do I think it a bad thing for Starr to realize this, that she can have options, if she chooses. After all, I can still have a little fun.”_

Zevran felt a pang as he resolved not to pursue a ‘kissing cousins’ relationship. Greater was the warmth and comfort he felt from having a family that welcomed him. Who could have predicted that coming to Ferelden he would find out about his own past and discover family he never realized existed? Finally, with a smile of contentment on his face, he fell asleep.


	16. Now What?

Overnight the clouds rolled in, they were lucky to be able to eat breakfast and pack up their tents before the storms hit. The thunder and lightning passed soon enough, but left a relentless cold hard rain behind. Starr brought out her travel cookies, and passed around some packs before they got started because they weren’t going to be able to stop for lunch. To make the day worse, they were going to be traveling through a particularly bad part of the forest. The welcome she usually felt walking among the trees was replaced by menace, feeling uncomfortably close and even creepy.

The change of weather affected everybody. No lighthearted bantered accompanied their preparations. Sten, of course, chose that morning to talk. “These are not cookies. They look like cookies, but they are not cookies.”

“They’re not regular dessert cookies, true,” Starr got no farther before Sten interrupted her.

“Cookies are light and crispy, maybe chewy. They are also sweet. These are dense, and not nearly as sweet. How can you call them cookies? You said you can make cookies. I am still waiting.”

Starr took a deep breath and then replied, “As I was saying, these are _travel_ cookies, not regular dessert cookies. They are full of fruit, nuts and grains. We can easily eat them while we’re on the move; they’re dense because they are supposed to be able to take the place of a meal if necessary. If you don’t like them, don’t eat them. Give them to Alistair, he’ll eat anything.”

“Hey! That’s not true.” When everybody turned to him in disbelief he continued, “Well, not completely true. But these are good, even if they aren’t ‘regular’ cookies.” And he stuffed another one in his mouth to prove his point.

“Now that that’s more or less settled, let’s get a move on people. Alistair stop eating, you may need them later.” Elissa got her brood, as she sometimes thought of them, moving.

Starr stowed her packs. She deliberated for a moment, and then pulled out her greatsword and scabbard to add to her 6 daggers and bow. She’d been hoping to avoid using the greatsword until she could get her other armor repaired; it was more comfortable and accommodated her various weapons better. Sighing, she took her position as point and they moved out, stopping only when they were in sight of the forest edge. She completely ignored her companions as she scoured the area, trying to see anything through the rain. Fen stayed close, he didn’t like this any better than she did. As they neared the forest, she held up her hand to stop the group.

Turning, she addressed them. “Eat now if you are going to. With this rain, we have to be extra vigilant because it is going to be even harder to hear, or see anything useful. This particular area of the forest is popular with bandits and other disreputables,” Fen nuzzled her hand as he sensed her tension, “but more worrisome are the spiders. They seem to show up here more than anywhere else I’ve been. All big, some poisonous, some corrupted, and meaner than a rampaging grizzly.” She looked at them appraisingly before she continued. “We are going to have to travel in pairs; some of the paths we’ll be taking are quite narrow. Stair, I think you and Sten should bring up the rear, Fen and I will be in front. Make sure you look up, keep your hands free, and no talking unless you see something suspicious or even unusual. Some of these spiders are quick and silent as they attack, and big as they are they are also very capable of blending in with the forest.”

“We should stay close to each other; I would hate to lose sight of you because we are too spread out.” Alistair was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to protect everybody in his care. He didn’t like that he and Sten both were in the rear.

“Good point. I want us to be as close as possible without getting in each other’s way if we have to fight. We may have to begin swinging and firing without much warning. If they attack from the rear, you and Sten can handle a surprise assault more easily. I can guarantee we’ll be attacked by something, it’s just a question of whether it’ll be bandits or a pack of spiders.”

Leliana was curious, “A pack of spiders? I haven’t heard of that before.”

Starr’s answer wasn’t particularly reassuring. “While spiders are often territorial, I’ve known them to cooperate in groups as large as twenty or thirty adult spiders. Add three or four spiderlings for each adult working to bring down the prey, and you can have trouble. We’re the prey.” She was grim when she said that last. “I hate spiders,” she muttered.

Elissa then turned to look at Bodahn and Sandal; Bodahn looked worried. She smiled, “We haven’t forgotten about you. You have a choice, you can continue with us into the forest or you can head to the road. It’s about five miles south of here through clear terrain; you can take Leliana and Griffon with you. This close to Denerim there should be plenty of guards. We can meet with you in the marketplace in a day or two.”

Bodahn was relieved that they weren’t leaving Sandal and him behind. “Thank you kindly, my boy and I appreciate it, we do indeed. If it’s all the same to you, we prefer to continue on with you. You’ve been very good to us and I feel safer with you in a forest full of spiders than on the road elsewhere.”

Elissa directed them to follow closely behind Alistair and Sten. “Wynne, can you cast paralysis or repulsion glyphs on the wagon? We don’t want any spiders hitching a ride.” Wynne nodded, and they were off again.

Zevran, right behind Starr, noticed that as soon as they stepped into the forest, an extra layer of tension settled over his cousin like a shroud, more than could be accounted for by the dangers they would be facing. Fen was also not unaffected. They had gone only a quarter mile into the forest when Fen whined and rubbed his head against Starr. Starr stroked his head and whispered, “I smell them, too.” She held up her hand to stop the group, and half-closed her eyes. Turning her head, she reached out with her other senses, ignoring the rain pouring down her back.

She opened her eyes and walked back to Elissa, Zevran right behind her. “Can you smell that? A musty bitter smell? There is definitely a group of spiders, unfortunately for us they are in the same direction we want to go. My best guess is that there are eight to twelve adult spiders about a mile away.” She continued on warily as Elissa relayed the information to the rest of the group.

They slowly trudged through the forest, nerves alert and on edge. Starr and Fen’s tension filtered to the rest of the group. Starr felt she could practically hear the trees chuckling with menace. By now, all of them could smell the spiders, and they were constantly looking around trying to discern where the attack would come from. Nobody doubted that there would be one.

Whoosh! One webbed Leliana. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh and the spiders also immobilized Sten, Morrigan and Elissa. Attacking from the sides, the rear, and the trees the spiders surrounded them. Suddenly, they filled the forest with the sounds of clicking, hissing and spitting. Letting out a huge war cry, Starr leapt forward and spun her greatsword in a circle, hitting many of the beasts. An answering war cry came from Alistair in the rear. Zevran was silent as smoke and just as pervasive, striking and crippling with his daggers, slashing webs. Wynne kept busy healing their webbed companions to the accompaniment of howling as Fen and Griffon attacked with fang and claw.

Soon the zing of arrows sounded as Leliana joined the fray, a disgruntled Sten close behind. Morrigan’s curses filled the air, as did the scent of fried spider. Finally, Elissa was free to slash and slice. And scream in rage. In the background was the constant thwack of axes as Bodahn and Sandal knocked the beasts off their wagon, Sandal chanting, “Spiders, nasty.”

They attacked in waves. Finally, piles of spiders later, the fighting stopped. Breathing hard through the thick air, everybody looked around, still wary. Starr could sense something still out there and cautiously began leading them forward. Rain continued to strike the leaves and drip onto the forest floor. There were small rustles, but nobody saw anything. Maybe small animals seeking shelter made the rustling, but Starr doubted it. But, was it more spiders or bandits hoping to take advantage of travelers weakened by the spider attack?

Starr fell back to talk to Elissa. Zevran noticed some archers hiding in the trees up ahead, at a nod from Elissa he slipped away. Starr and Elissa moved forward and Starr directed Fen back to Wynne. These thugs were not going to find any easy targets here. They continued moving forward when a few of the bandits charged. Zevran had taken out some of the archers, but not all of them. The group quickly faced the new threat. An old, wily giant poisonous spider that had been tracking them since the earlier battle erupted from the ground and threw itself onto Starr’s back, its fangs cutting through her armor like butter. Alistair watched the attack in horror from his position in the rear. He bulled forward to protect the mages and his fellow warden as much as possible, and Starr, the promise he made to Marcail resonating in his mind.

Zevran also moved quickly, wanting to help his cousin, but Starr wasn’t waiting for anybody to rescue her. Cutting down the bandits directly in front of her, she slammed the point of her sword into the ground and grabbed two of her daggers. Reversing her grip, she reached behind her and jammed the blades into the sides of the spider. It shrieked in a high-pitched whisper as she tightened her grip on the blades and brought the spider over her head. Yelling, “I. Hate. SPIDERS!” she threw it forward into oncoming bandits, removing the daggers from the sides of the beast as she did so while the spider’s legs worked furiously. Rolling and popping her shoulders, she retrieved her sword and battled on.

Leliana pinned the spider to the body of one of the bandits. As it was dying and thrashing, it tore the face off the bandit attached to it. The other bandits ignored their comrade and continued charging the band of travelers. Zevran was now at his cousin’s side, poisoned blades striking at every opportunity. Morrigan conjured a blizzard, freezing many of the thugs before they came close. Arrows and stonefist shattered them into tiny pieces. The blades of Sten, Alistair and Elissa took out many of those remaining. Finally, the bodies of bandits littered the forest floor. Not a single enemy lived.

Quickly, they gathered themselves and anything useful from the bodies. Leaving the remains for scavengers, they followed the bandits’ trail and were able to move much faster than previously. They were almost out of the forest when they came to a clearing with water. Elissa told everybody to make camp, night was coming soon enough and she didn’t want to try navigating through the forest in the dark. Nobody complained. They all wanted to get rid of the stench of dead spider and clean the ichors and blood from weapons and armor.

A tired silence prevailed as they made camp. They were glad to get away unscathed.


	17. A Spider’s Revenge

Well, not quite unscathed.

When they stopped for camp, the first thing Starr wanted to do was get out of her armor to check for damage and clean it. While Alistair was setting up her tent, she got all her blades out ready for cleaning. As soon as he was done, she entered her tent and started removing her armor, beginning with her boots. When she got to her chest piece, she encountered resistance. She finally tugged it off, but her arms were becoming leaden, her vision and thinking fuzzy. She gasped when her back began to burn, but she was having a hard time moving. She wanted to remove her undershirt, but couldn’t remember how. Visions swam in front of her eyes before she passed out.

Alistair sympathized with Starr’s desire to get out of her armor. Spider guts, blech. No way would even _he_ be able to eat while wearing gut-covered armor. He hurriedly set up his own tent and changed out of his armor. He felt much better after changing into britches from his leather armor, light boots and a heavy cotton shirt. Feeling like he could breathe again, he moved his and Starr’s dirty weapons and armor to the side. He would clean it all while she prepared dinner. He began setting up the cook fires between their tents. Fen and Griffon had disappeared, presumably to hunt or maybe just avoid all the cleaning going on among their other companions. When Starr still hadn’t come out of her tent, he stepped to the entrance. “Starr?” he called, quietly. There was no answer, so he peeked inside. Seeing her bare legs as she lay there dressed only in an undershirt and smallclothes he blushed and withdrew, thinking maybe she fell asleep.

Before he could call again, a little louder, Starr groaned. Alarmed, he went into the tent in time to hear her pleading with somebody he couldn’t see, “Please, no more, no . . . .” and whimpering. As he reached for her to wake her, he noticed something was sticking out of her back and pinning her shirt to her skin. It was a spider fang with the venom gland still attached.

Alarmed, Alistair opened the tent flap and bellowed, “WYNNE!” After a bare hesitation, he also called out, “Zevran!” He didn’t wait to see if they were coming. He knew they would. He lifted up Starr’s shirt, looking for more injuries. He blanched. Scars covered her back. Some were from being whipped, but bad as they were, they were nothing compared to the knife scars. The phrase ‘King’s Whore’ was carved into her upper back, the scars rough and ugly looking. He quickly pulled her shirt down, knowing she wouldn’t want anybody else to see them. It was bad enough that there was no way to hide the whip scars from Wynne; they went all the way down her back, stopping just above her buttocks. He felt sick, but tried to hide that as Wynne and Zevran looked into the tent.

“What is it, Alistair?” Wynne asked, breathless. Her eyes widened as Alistair rolled up Starr’s shirt to show the spider bite, and he showed them the fang. Zevran hissed. He didn’t miss the scars or Alistair’s distress. He could tell there was more that Alistair wasn’t showing.

Zevran grabbed the spider fang and examined it while Wynne checked Starr. “Alistair, I’m afraid the poison has made its way all through her bloodstream. I can treat the wound, but right now I can’t do much to draw out the poison. Even if the battles we had earlier hadn’t depleted me, trying to draw it out now might do almost as much harm as letting it run its course. What I can do is try to make her more comfortable and reduce the symptoms.” Wynne was troubled; Starr had received a lot of venom.

Alistair looked at them, eyes bleak, “Zevran, you know poisons. I thought you might know something that could help. Do you, Zevran?”

Zevran answered the appeal in the templar’s eyes, “As a matter of fact, I might. Is she feverish?” Alistair nodded. “Is she aware?” Alistair shook his head. “That is not good, but I have some herbs from Antiva which might help. I will make a tea, if she can’t drink it, it can be absorbed by her skin. I can stay with her, if you like?” He was surprised when Alistair hesitated before shaking his head. “Fine, while Wynne treats our Starr, I will brew the tea. I will also inform our fearless leader of events.”

He almost didn’t hear Alistair’s whispered “Thank you.”

“Alistair, I should check for other injuries while I’m here. If you would let me roll up her shirt,” Wynne got no further.

“I already checked her back. I’ll roll her over and hold her while you check the rest of her. I’ll close my eyes,” he blushed but kept his eyes steady on hers, “but I’m not leaving.” He put his words into action and waited until Wynne said she was done and that only the spider’s wound needed treatment. Finally, Wynne finished.

“I’ve done all I can, Alistair. She’s young and strong, by morning she should be fine, just tired and sore. Sleep will help, I put a light sleep spell over her, just enough to help her get to sleep, but not enough to hide any change in her condition. Somebody should stay with her because there is a slight chance she will need more healing before morning. Do you want me to stay with her tonight?” Wynne wasn’t at all surprised when Alistair shook his head, his eyes never leaving Starr’s sleeping form. “Let me at least help her be more comfortable. She’ll feel better in a clean shirt.” She looked through Starr’s packs until she found a loose shirt and a light blanket. With Alistair’s help, his eyes closed of course, she replaced Starr’s undershirt with the clean one. “Keep an eye on her, Alistair. If she’s in too much distress, call me. Otherwise, I will come back in the morning and ease her pain. It’s a good thing you found her when you did.” She patted his hand and left the tent.

Alistair brushed her hair from her face. Noticing how tangled it was, he looked for her hairbrush. He took the ties out of her hair and began slowly brushing her hair, which fell below her hips. The rhythmic motion helped him collect his thoughts. _“Maker’s breath, Starr, how did you survive? How could anybody do that to another person, much less a child? It must be those people who kidnapped you for Cailan and then dumped you in the woods. You are so amazing. I knew there was something wrong, but not this. I wonder if Marcail realizes how lucky he is to have you for his mother. You’re strong, kind, talented, and you have integrity. You could have been bitter, but you’re not. I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”_ He kept brushing her hair; the repetitive action seemed to soothe both of them.

That’s how Zevran found them when he returned to the tent. The tenderness of the scene stirred something inside him, made him want something, though he knew not what. When Alistair became aware of him, he came forward and spoke in a low, soothing voice, “Alistair, my friend, here is the tea, a bowl and some cloths. Periodically rub her skin with a damp cloth. It will help her fever and soothe her skin, keep it from getting dry and itchy. It may also help relax her mind, help keep her from getting lost in unpleasant memories.”

“Thank you, Zevran, Zev,” whispered Alistair. “Do you mind if I ask you something?” At Zevran’s nod, he continued. “Have you ever wanted to kill somebody you never met? I don’t mean a contract, but somebody so horrible that you just want them dead?” Alistair looked at Zevran then, eyes blazing with such hatred that Zevran almost didn’t recognize him.

“No, until now I can’t say that I have felt outrage over the actions suffered by another. Am I correct in saying that these are about the scars I saw on my lovely young cousin’s back?”

“Do you know what she was saying when I found her? She was begging somebody to stop what they were doing, ‘ _Please, no more_.’ I think she was thirteen when it happened. I’ve never heard her beg before.” With tears of rage and pain in his eyes, he continued gently brushing her hair.

Before Alistair could stop him, Zevran quickly rolled up her shirt. “Braska!” Zevran could say no more. He put his hand down and lightly felt the scars. He rolled her shirt down with a trembling hand and took a breath to collect himself.

“Do you wonder why I want them dead?”

He answered Alistair with eyes of cold steel, “Die they will. If you want my help, you have it. They used a jagged, dull blade to inflict as much pain as possible and to prevent a clean heal. I would even venture to guess that the blade was coated with something.” Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he took a cloth and dipped it into the tea. Gently, he washed her face and cleaned her arms and legs with the tea. With unexpected delicacy and respect for her modesty, he reached under her shirt to complete his task quickly. “Whenever she starts to get feverish, repeat what I just did. I will be right outside the tent if you need anything.” He looked at Alistair, “she is fortunate to have you as a friend, Alistair. I will take care of all our armor and weapons.”

Alistair looked at him thoughtfully, “Thank you, Zev. If you don’t mind, I’d like it if you came back and stayed with her as well. Over the last few days I-I’ve noticed you care about her, too and I think she needs both of us. It will only hurt her if we are at odds,” he held his hand in friendship out to the surprised elf. Zevran searched Alistair’s face, and saw nothing but sincerity. He shook Alistair’s hand and left the tent.

He thought long and hard as he cleaned armor and weapons, wondering how to find out who hurt her and devising multiple punishments. None of them seemed to be enough for hurting his family. His friend. How odd, that he and Alistair might actually be friends instead of rivals, that Alistair would be willing to try to put aside his distrust because Starr would be happier if her best friend and her cousin got along. Zevran couldn’t remember encountering anyone so inherently noble. There was something about Starr that brought out the best in both of them. Those who hurt her were going to die, nobody messed with a Crow.

He was just finishing the weapons and armor when Fen and Griffon returned. Fen sensed something wrong and tried to enter Starr’s tent. Zevran stopped him. “No, this time you cannot help her. We are doing what we can. What you can do is stay here in front of the tent and keep everybody but Alistair and I out. Will you do that?” Fen whined, but took his place guarding the entrance to the tent. Zevran smiled a little, and ducked inside.


	18. Some Memories Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: This chapter has violent sexual content. If this makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip to the next chapter.

All through the night, Alistair and Zevran stayed with Starr and took care of her. Her mind frequently traveled to the past, the spider’s poison breaking the walls she had put around her worst memories. Alistair wanted to protect her from reliving them, reassure her, but Zevran stopped him. “There is more than one kind of poison which needs to be purged my friend,” Zevran explained to him. “Even though she will probably not remember anything she says tonight, we must be prepared to listen.” He hesitated before continuing to carefully address the younger man. “I know your background has ill-prepared you to deal with the horrors we may hear, if it gets to be too much to bear, I will understand if you leave. Many men would.” He stopped and let Alistair absorb his words.

Alistair was pale, but his voice and eyes were steady as he faced Zevran. “I love her. If she can relive her worst moments then I can be strong enough to listen. If I can’t live with what she has endured, then it’s better for her sake if I know that now.” He tightened his arms around Starr, “I just hope I prove worthy of her.” As he spoke, Zevran’s respect for the young man increased. Somehow, he didn’t think Alistair would leave.

_Starr found herself back in the dungeon, her ‘interlude’ with Cailan finished. They weren’t letting her go, and where was Vionna? She no longer believed them when they said they let her go. The leader, a cruel-looking man with short blond hair came to her, his two cronies a short distance behind. She moved to the back of her cell, “Stay away from me!” she shouted, but he just laughed._

_“Guards, bring her out, leave her clothes behind.” The two guards came forward eagerly. Fighting did nothing but earn her pain and bruises. They ripped her clothes to pieces and they brought her to their lord, and forced her to kneel before him. “Let’s see what His Majesty taught you, I want you to service me. If I am not completely satisfied, my friend here,” and he motioned the dark-haired crony forward and behind Starr, “will ream your pretty ass in two. Do you understand me?” Starr really didn’t, at her hesitation the dark man rammed two fingers into her rear and started jamming them in and out of the opening. The pain was worse than what the guards had done. She looked up at the blond lord, who seemed rather pleased. The blond lord pulled his manhood out and stroked it before putting it in front of her face. Now she knew what he wanted, she didn’t want to touch him, but she couldn’t see any way out. She’d have to play along until she could escape. Hesitantly, she placed her mouth over his member, the guards still had hold of her arms and the dark man kept his fingers busy, hurting her. The blond lord thrust himself down her throat with no warning. Remembering what Cailan had taught her, she tried to please him. The third man came forward and watched. He had his hands inside his pants and was stroking himself in time to their movements. The blond lord came into her mouth and forced her to swallow his seed, making her gag. Withdrawing and moving back, he put himself to rights. The third man knelt in front of her and began toying with her breasts, pinching and kneading, biting and pulling. The blond lord looked down at her, sneering, “You know, I don’t believe I_ am _completely satisfied.” He walked over to a sitting area she hadn’t noticed before and sat down. He poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table, and watched and listened as the dark man removed his fingers and rammed his member into her. She screamed as she felt him ripping her apart. The third man bit down hard on her nipple, causing her to scream over and over again. Whenever she came close to passing out, one of the guards would throw water over her. They didn’t allow her to escape any of the agony. When they were finished, she crumpled, trying not to cry. The blond lord came over, wineglass in his hand, and looked down at her. “You show promise, whore. Guards, clean her up and put her in the cage. Leave it in my sitting room.” The blond lord, the dark man and the third man walked away from the abused girl, laughing._

_Starr was in darkness looking for a way out, remembered pain causing her to whimper. Strong arms with a familiar scent embraced her, holding her tight, she felt someone kissing her hair and other hands rubbing soothing cloths on her skin, humming a comforting melody. For just a moment, she felt the promise of safety._

_\---------------------_

_Now she was back in Redcliffe, looking for Stair. Then she remembered that Stair was gone, taken to the Chantry. “Stupid Isoldebitch,” she muttered. She heard two men chuckling and looked around. One man was practically a giant, all golden and godlike as if he came from the sun. The other was a blond elf with markings on his face. “Who are you?” she asked them curiously._

_After a brief moment, the elf replied, “I am your cousin, Zevran, from Antiva. This is my friend, Ali. Who is this Isoldebitch you were talking about?”_

_“Don’t tell my mom I said that, if she hears she’ll wash out my mouth with something nasty again.” The little girl walked over to the two men; crossing her arms, she answered the question. “That’s what I call her. Her_ real _name is Lady Isolde, and she made them take away my bestest friend ever. Stair never did anything to her, but she made him sleep in the stables and even that wasn’t bad enough. I miss Stair; do you think he knows that, Zevvie? Will he be okay? It’s the Chantry; they’ll treat him better than_ she _ever did, won’t they?” She looked at him with wide eyes shining with tears and hope._

_Charmed by the little girl she used to be, though he inwardly winced at being called ‘Zevvie,’ Zevran answered her, “I promise you, little cousin, that your friend Stair will grow into a fine man, like my friend here who grew up in the Chantry. And he will always remember and care for you.” The men were rewarded with a radiant smile._

_Looking around, she whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?” Zevran and ‘Ali’ looked at her and nodded their heads, smiling. “I got back at her for Stair, but she doesn’t know it’s me.” The two men were obviously curious and encouraged her to continue. “Arl Eamon got her some jeweled hair ribbons. They were really pretty,” she said enviously. “I took them out of her room one day while she was away from the castle. Nobody saw me. I can be really sneaky.” The sun giant snickered, she looked so proud of herself, and he picked her up, holding her while she continued telling her secret. “Later, while Mom and Dad thought I was sleeping, I went to Murdock’s farm. I put the ribbons on their best sow and let her out. You should have heard everybody laughing when they found Petunia snuffling around the Chantry, all dolled up in hair ribbons. The best screams were from her. _She _wasn’t laughing. I didn’t understand some of the words she was saying, but they sure weren’t ‘lesian. Mom and Dad knew what she was saying, though. They clapped their hands over my ears. Nobody ever found out. I think Teagan suspects, he always winks now when he smiles at me.” Her two friends roared with laughter, the sun giant holding her tight and kissing her hair between bouts of laughter. They promised to buy her lots and lots of hair ribbons. She laughed with them until she fell asleep in Ali’s arms._

_\---------------------_

_She woke up in the cage. She must have done something wrong, because the cage was in the barracks so any of the guards could put their hands in the special holes and touch her, put their fingers in her. They couldn’t do much else, but they tried. It was humiliating to be there, naked and unable to cover herself. She could stand, but there wasn’t much room to move. The guards quickly learned to tie her hands to the sides of the cage, so she couldn’t fight back. They also avoided her mouth after she bit one of them in his private area. Some guards were more gentle than others, but that was the only relief she had. She was rarely alone as the days turned into weeks. Even when locked in the cage or the dungeon, she was rarely alone. She was still looking for a way to escape_

_After the first time with the blond lord, she determined to fight back and not let them make her cry or scream. She usually failed at the crying and screaming part. The only times she didn’t fight back was when the blond lord brought one of the elven servants into the room. After they_ _badly beat one of them because she fought the blond lord and his cronies, she stopped fighting, no matter how sickening they were. Oddly, even the blond lord and his friends didn’t rape her. She was relieved, but confused until she overheard the guards as they were changing shift._

_“Why does he care if she’s pregnant? She’s just another whore.”_

_“I dunno, apparently he’s hoping she was pregnant before she came here. He has plans for the brat.”_

_“What a waste, I keep hoping he’ll let us poke her properly when he’s tired of her, just like all the others.”_

_“Makes me hard just thinking about it, she’s prime, is that one. And she deserves to have us all have at her, as much trouble as she’s been.”_

_“You mean we deserve the chance to screw her properly, not all these games. I look forward to the day.”_

_As they walked away, she couldn’t believe what she just heard. The blond lord wanted her to be pregnant? No, he wanted her to be pregnant with_ Cailan’s _baby, that’s the only thing that made sense to her for them not raping her the normal way. He wanted to be sure that only Cailan could be the father. But why? The next time she was with the blond lord, she would listen carefully to him with his friends._

_\---------------------_

_She was in the dark again, and she was crying. “I couldn’t let them find out I was pregnant, could I? I don’t think I would have survived if I didn’t do something, and now I’m broken. But Marcail is safe, that’s all that matters.”_

_The arms around her tightened, comforting her, a deep voice rumbled in her ear, “Yes, baby, Marcail is safe, and so are you. There’s nothing broken about you, you are the most wonderful woman I know.”_

_“You don’t know what I did!” Starr wailed into the darkness._

_Another voice, the one that was humming earlier, spoke softly, “Then tell us Bellissima, so you can put this nightmare to bed.” She felt a soft kiss on her forehead._

_She was back in the dungeon. She had to do something to convince them she wasn’t pregnant. Her best hope was that they would just rape her and let her go, or at least lessen the security so she could escape. She shivered at the thought. She felt so old just then. If she pretended to be sick, they would just take it as confirmation that she was pregnant. She could think of only one thing, if she had enough courage. She needed to find something sharp. She prowled the dungeon, looking for something, anything. Since nobody else was down there, they didn’t bother locking her in her cell. They just locked the door to that area. In one of the other cells, she found a metal gauntlet with one of the fingers damaged. She pulled and twisted until it came off, with a jagged sharp end. Going back to her cell, she said a quick prayer before reaching in and cutting herself. She made sure there was a lot of blood before throwing the piece of metal away into the other cell. She forced herself to just lie down and wait until somebody found her._

_Hours later, a guard came for her and found her in a pool of blood. He felt her skin, she was cold from blood loss and she moaned at his touch. He ran and came back with the blond lord and another guard. The guards waited for directions, eyes shifting to the naked girl and back to their lord. The blond lord was dangerously still. “Bring her out and follow me.” The guards did as they were told, each grasping an arm and half-dragged half-carried her to his sitting room. They waited while he wrote out two notes, still holding onto the barely conscious girl. “Leave her on the floor here. Deliver these notes to my friends, immediately. If you can’t find them, bring the notes back to me.” As the guards were leaving, one of them noticed the blond lord retrieving a riding crop. They heard the whip hit bare flesh before they shut the door. They ran to deliver the notes, for once not wanting to know what was happening in that room._

_“Stupid, miserable bitch, ruining my plans! All that waiting and denying myself and then you have the gall to miscarry!” As he screamed out his fury, he lashed out with the whip, up and down her back he lashed, until he was exhausted. Breathing heavily, fury momentarily spent, he heard her moaning and crying. He turned her over; she was looking at him through glazed eyes. “Well, I don’t need to deny myself anymore, do I? And you have nice little breasts, there.” He threw the whip aside and with slow, deliberate movements he took off his clothes. Lying down on the rug beside her, he was on his side facing her. Watching her reaction, he ran his hand up and down her abdomen, stroking and caressing as she watched him warily. He took her breast in his hand and kneaded it, gently stroking the nipple before cruelly twisting and pinching it. As she cried out, he put his mouth over hers and bit her lips, muffling any noises she made. He nibbled his way to her ear as his hands punished her breasts, and whispered, “When my friends come, we will have ourselves a little party. If you fight us in any way, if you don’t cooperate and do exactly what we tell you, somebody will die, do you believe me?” He waited until she nodded and then bit her ear hard enough to draw blood. “Now put your arms around me and hold on tight.” He savored the feel of her body pressed against his and her hot tears on his skin, then spread her legs wide with his knees and grabbed her ass hard in his hands, fingers digging into the soft flesh, he entered her in one fast hard thrust. He went in easily; she was so slick with blood. Her screams as he rubbed against her damaged flesh increased his excitement. He reveled in the blood that flowed as a result of his actions. He pounded into her repeatedly until he was satisfied. Leaving her on the floor, he washed and dressed himself and waited for his friends._

_In the darkness again, she spoke in a dull, defeated tone, “They came. I did whatever they wanted, even all three of them at once. I cried, I screamed, but I didn’t fight. Nobody was going to die because of me. Afterwards, they rolled me in the same rug the guards dropped me on and carried me away. I blacked out. I know I was in a carriage and they took me a ways outside Denerim. I was so hot and cold by then, I was in no position to fight them. I don’t remember a lot of it, not until the knife. The blond lord decided that if somebody found my body, I could still cause embarrassment for the royal family, so he carved my back. ‘King’s whore, for that’s what you are, bitch’ is what he said. I remember screaming and falling and screaming again.” Exhausted, she was silent, tears running down her face._

_The arms with the deep voice tightened around her, she felt kisses in her hair and tears falling on her face. His voice was husky and uneven as he said, “I don’t think I have ever heard of anything so brave in my life. Thank the maker you lived.” She felt so safe and warm as he shifted to cradle her closer against him._

_“Cara, I have seen and heard many things; What was done to you was horrific, yes, but you are not broken unless you want to be. I am humbled by your courage and awed by the woman you are today. For now, go to sleep, and rest in the knowledge that you not only survived but triumphed.” Starr once again felt cool cloths soothing her burning skin. Before falling asleep, she felt her hands brought to the man’s lips, and then held against his chest._

For most of the night both Alistair and Zevran stayed with Starr. They comforted her, dried her tears, and soothed her skin and her spirit. She may not have been aware of it, but the two men now in her life were aware that a bond formed between the three of them, one that would last a very long time.


	19. I Hate Spiders

Starr was aware of arms holding her. She slowly opened her eyes and saw part of a very nice chest through the opening of a man’s shirt. Looking up, she saw Alistair asleep and lightly snoring, and knew she must still be dreaming. She didn’t care, it was better than the nightmares she’d been having. She decided to enjoy this dream instead of waking up right away. In real life, Stair would never be in her tent, holding her. It was her dream, he would never know if she decided to explore. Carefully, not wanting to break the dream, Starr removed her shirt and smalls. Feeling deliciously wicked, she opened Stair’s shirt all the way and just stared at his chest for a moment. It was just as wonderful as she remembered from Redcliffe. She slid back into his arms, and ran her hand up and down his chest and abdomen, lightly circling the far nipple and was fascinated to see it harden to a peak before running her tongue over the one closest to her. He reacted by stroking her, rubbing her bottom. She moved her hand down his abdomen and toyed with the band of his britches. Not ready to go too far, she did unlace them so she could slip her hand inside. He was so warm, but when she felt his manhood stir, she retreated.

She slid on top of him and began kissing his stomach, moving her way up to his chest. She loved the taste and scent of his skin, slightly salty with a strong hint of vanilla. She lightly grazed his nipple with her teeth, and then began caressing it with her tongue. She felt Stair quiver and suck in his breath and was rewarded when he found her breasts and began caressing them, exploring them. She felt shivers running up and down her spine and into the very center of her being. She arched into his touch. She moved up to his neck, kissing and nibbling, he held her against him stroking and scratching her back. Starr groaned at the feeling, the calluses of his hands creating a delightful friction against her skin.

Zevran had left the tent at the beginning of the last watch. He stayed just outside in case she needed him, but Starr remained calm. He started to prepare more tea as well as coffee as soon as he heard the beginnings of movement. He paused when he heard soft sighs and groans, _“Aah, sleepy morning foreplay. I wonder if either of them are fully awake, I suppose I will soon have to do my duty as the man of the family and put a stop to whatever is going on,”_ then he smiled wickedly to himself, _”but not just yet. I think it will be good for both of them to know that the celestial Starr is capable of passion.”_ He continued to drink his coffee and keep an ear out. He also knew it was too soon, that neither of them was ready for the natural conclusion to their current activity. He found it odd that he actually trusted Alistair to stop in time more than he did Starr. He contemplated many things as he drank his coffee.

Alistair slowly woke up to the feeling of Starr in his arms. He thought he was dreaming, the woman he loved naked and on top of him, sliding up and down, caressing him. _Kissing_ him. When she grazed her teeth against the skin of his jaw, he moaned. Without stopping to think, he grabbed hold of her bottom and kneaded it, holding her against him as she shivered in excitement. He felt her naked breasts against his skin and her nipples hardening. His manhood was swelling against the confines of his leather britches. He had no memory of how they became unlaced. Rolling them both over so he was on top, he kissed her deeply. She returned his passion. Breaking the kiss, he moved back and looked at her, love and heat in his gaze, “Maker’s breath, it’s not fair that you are so beautiful first thing in the morning.”

Starr looked back at him with newly found passion and thought those were the loveliest words in the world. She examined him closely, his messed up hair, his lips curved in a slight smile, his eyes sleepy and tired. His eyes were tired. As that thought registered, she realized she wasn’t dreaming. This was real, and impossible. “You’re not a dream!” she gasped and rolled over, hiding her head under a blanket.

Alistair paused, and started blinking, trying to get his brain to wake up. When it did, he quickly sat up, blushing furiously. With shaking hands, he put his clothing back in order, though it was difficult to lace up his britches again. Finally, he looked at her, and brushing his hand through his hair he apologized, “I’m so sorry, Starr, I didn’t mean to take advantage of you. Especially since you were so sick last night. I guess, I mean, I thought I was the one dreaming.”

“I told you before, I can’t do this. I’m broken. Please, just go.” Starr was so mortified she hardly knew what she was saying.

Alistair looked down at her for a long moment. Leaning down, he moved her hair aside and kissed the top of her neck. Then he slowly rained kisses down the length of her back, paying special attention to her scars. When he got to the base of her spine, he stopped. Moving his head up to hers, he lifted the edge of the blanket and whispered in her ear, “You are the most beautiful, strong and amazing woman I know. Your courage humbles me. There is nothing broken about you, unless that’s what you want. I’m going, for now.” With that implied promise, he smacked her bottom and stumbled out of the tent.

Flushed and breathing hard, he pointedly ignored Zevran and Fen and went to his tent. Gathering his wash things and a change of clothes, he made his way to the stream. He hoped the water was really cold, icy even.

Zevran chuckled to himself. He looked at Fen, who looked back at him with a wolfish grin on his face. “Things progress, do they not? I think maybe it is time for some cousinly counsel,” with that, he grabbed a cup of tea and quietly entered the tent. He was a little surprised to see Starr with a blanket over her head and the rest of her completely naked. She had a very tantalizing rear end; Zevran’s grin at that moment was as wolfish as Fen’s. Carefully and quietly putting down the cups of tea and coffee, Zevran lay down next to Starr. Propped on his elbow, he examined the scars more closely in the light.

Feeling fingers lightly touching her back, Starr groaned, “I told you before, go _away,_ Alistair.”

“Ah, but I am not your templar, I hope you are not too disappointed. I brought you some tea,” Zevran looked all innocence when Starr lifted the blanket and peered up at him through teary eyes. Even in the shadows of the blanket, he could tell she was flushed. “Might I suggest, oh comely cousin, that you remove the blanket from your head and use it to cover yourself? We may be family, but I am still a man lying next to a very beautiful and very naked woman.” Having said that, he trailed his fingers down her back and let them linger on her exquisite backside, lightly scratching. He was satisfied with the responding quiver before she quickly sat up and rearranged the blanket, but not before he got a quick glimpse of all her heavenly glory. _“Poor Alistair, no wonder he ran for cold water.”_

Once she was fully covered, and was drinking the tea, Zevran began, “How are you feeling this morning, cousin?”

“Embarrassed, mortified . . .” Starr sputtered. Her mind was still on her encounter with Alistair that morning. Speaking more to herself than Zevran, “I can’t believe I did that, I thought I was dreaming. How could I be so stupid? How can I look Stair in the face after practically seducing him? I’m broken, I told him that, and then he has the gall to kiss my scars and smack my bottom! Oh, Maker and Creators, what am I going to do?” she sniffed and lowered her head and hid behind her hair.

Zevran was delighted, and briefly jealous. Perhaps Starr was much closer to being healed than he anticipated, although he had a feeling Alistair was not going to find his courtship any easier. He would have to give him some advice, an experienced man of the world to a younger and innocent one. To give Alistair his due, Zevran thought he handled the situation this morning rather well. His opinion of the young man continued to rise.

Keeping an innocent look on his face, he cleared his throat, “That is quite interesting, my dear, and you are welcome to tell me all the details, but I meant how are you feeling after being so sick? Do you remember the spiders? A particularly old and wily one attacked you when the bandits struck. It left a fang behind, you received the entire venom. You were very sick, and lucky Alistair found you when he did.” His face grew very serious as he spoke.

Starr muttered, “I must still be sick if I’m rambling like this. I can’t believe I said anything about s-seducing Stair.” She thought for a moment, then spoke louder, “I remember, I came into my tent to remove my armor. Things got fuzzy, and the last thing I remember until this morning is my back feeling like it was on fire.” She shifted, and rotated her shoulders. “Except for feeling rather sore, I’m fine. Is that why Stair was in my tent this morning? And my response was to attack him, great. I hate spiders.” Her mouth twisted into a mutinous pout.

“Yes, Wynne could do very little for you, as the poison was already completely in your bloodstream. We stayed with you to watch over you, in case you worsened and needed Wynne. Are you sure you remember nothing?” he pressed, amber eyes watching her closely.

Starr struggled to remember, but finally shrugged her shoulders. “I have a vague feeling of nightmares, strong arms and cool cloths, but that’s all.”

“No matter, we suspected that you might not remember. The important thing is that you are much better this morning. Now, Wynne will be along soon to remove your remaining aches and pains. Before she gets here, I want to talk to you about your scars.” Starr immediately became defensive. “Wynne only saw ones from the whip, where the spider bit you. Alistair made sure she didn’t see any more than that. Only Alistair, you and I know about the others. It is up to you if you want anybody else to know.” Zevran waited until she relaxed a little before continuing, “Those other scars are very rough, do they ever bother you, do they cause you physical discomfort?”

Starr looked at Zevran, still pouting, before admitting, “Sometimes they crack and bleed if my skin gets dry, or I don’t do daily stretches to try and stay limber. It’s not too bad.”

“Would you consider letting Wynne look at them, she may be able to do something for you? I hate to think that they still cause you pain.”

Before she could answer, Alistair stuck his head in the tent. Even though his eyes were molten gold as he looked at his Starr, his tone was light, “Having a tea party? Sounds like fun, Wynne is coming.” He entered the tent without waiting for an invitation. He carefully sat across from Starr, next to Zevran; he didn’t want to risk her rejecting him outright because she felt crowded.

They heard light steps approaching the tent and then Wynne’s voice, “Hello. Starr, dear, I’m here to check on you. Coming in.” Matching actions to words, she entered Starr’s tent. If she was surprised at the group in front of her, and that Starr appeared to be wearing only a blanket, she hid it well. “My, you look much better this morning. Do you feel woozy at all?” Starr shook her head. Wynne felt her skin, “and the fever is all gone as well. Wonderful! Any soreness?”

Starr replied, “I feel kind of sore all over, but nothing specific.”

“Good, it appears you were well taken care of,” Wynne pretended not to notice Starr’s blush. “Let me just take care of that for you, it will only take a minute and then we can all leave you to get dressed.” Wynne looked meaningfully at the two men. Alistair blushed and Zevran only smiled. Wynne waited for the men to leave before speaking again, “Starr, my dear, is there anything else? Something you prefer not to mention in front of Alistair or Zevran?”

Starr hesitated, “There’s nothing related to yesterday. Thank you for everything, Wynne. Is it okay if I talk to you later about something else?”

Wynne looked at the younger woman fondly. She thought Starr was perfect for Alistair; since Redcliffe, Alistair was starting to live up to his potential and it was a wonderful thing to see. “Of course, child. Anytime you like, now I’ll leave so you can get dressed. If you start to feel sore again, please let me know.”

When Starr came out of her tent, the first thing she saw was Leliana putting a simple breakfast together. “Oh hello, I am glad to see you looking so well. We were all quite worried about you. Are you hungry? I am not nearly as talented with food as you are, but I can manage toasted bread quite well. The water in the pond is very clear and cool; I find a nice wash after a bad night to be very refreshing. The men are all done, so if you prefer to bathe first, now is a good time.” Leliana’s gentle rambling helped ease Starr’s embarrassment over her earlier conduct and what she saw as a dereliction of her responsibilities last night and this morning. She smiled at the friendly redhead and decided that she would indeed feel better after a quick bath.

On her way to the pond, she saw Alistair. _“Maker and Creators, what am I going to say? Maybe I can pretend he’s not there.”_ He waved when he saw her and stood there waiting. _“Or maybe not.”_ Going forward she kept her eyes on the ground, she stopped only when she saw his feet directly in front of her. “G-good morning, Stair,” she shuffled her feet for minute before she took a deep breath and spoke in a rush, “I’msorryIattackedyouthismorningandhopeyoucanforgiveme.”

She was surprised when he didn’t say anything, just gently pushed her hair back from her face. Leaning towards her, he whispered in her ear, “I’m not.” She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and her face red. She got even redder when she looked into his eyes and saw the passion still lingering in them from this morning. His voice was husky as he told her, “I was so worried last night. I am very happy that you are feeling better and even happier to know that I am your dream man.” She opened her mouth to say something but her mind was a complete blank. Still smiling, Alistair put his finger under her chin and closed her mouth before walking away, whistling.


	20. Friendly Advice

That evening, everybody was feeling restless. They would enter Denerim the next day and they were all excited. Leliana was so thrilled about going to the marketplace that she even tried to convince Morrigan to go shopping with her. Sten hoped he remained in camp; the prospect of being alone without the constant chatter of his companions was appealing. Starr was trying to check her supplies and make a list of what she needed and wanted, including armor repair. Alistair tried to be helpful; he’d been feeling so protective of her since she was ill he didn’t realize he was crowding her. When she practically tripped over him for the umpteenth time, Starr had had enough. Putting her hands on either side of his face, she spoke slowly and carefully, “Stair, I appreciate your desire to help. You are a good friend and I appreciate you more than you know, but. Go. Away.” She gave him a slight push for emphasis.

Fortunately for Alistair, Zevran approached them, “Perhaps, Alistair, we should gather plenty of firewood. We do not know how many days we will be here. I’m sure that will be helpful for all of us.” A red-faced Alistair nodded in agreement and they left. They quickly stripped the immediate area of useful firewood and piled it near camp before venturing farther away.

When Zevran judged they were far enough away for privacy, he stopped them. “Alistair, my friend, it is time we had a little chat. Since Starr was sick, you have been so protective of her that I am surprised she hasn’t hit you over the head.” Zevran let his words sink in as he sat down against a tree.

Alistair groaned and sat down facing him. “I know. I keep trying to stop myself, then I see images of her being abused and I just want to make it up to her. To let her know that I won’t let that happen again.” Alistair looked at Zevran thoughtfully, “You know, you’re much better at hiding how protective you are of her. Or maybe she thinks it’s just because you’re new at the family thing.”

Zevran was surprised, he hadn’t realized until Alistair spoke that he had been acting any differently. If the Crows thought he had feelings or special consideration for Starr, they could use that against him. He didn’t like the idea that his very presence might be putting her at risk. “Hmmm, perhaps we will both benefit by this conversation. I wonder if I shouldn’t leave, for her sake.”

“Once, I would have been thrilled at the idea of you leaving. I want you to stay,” Alistair said. Zevran looked at him through hooded eyes that gave away nothing. “Starr cares about you, even when you confused her with all your flirting she still liked you as a friend. Your flirting may still confuse her, but now you’re family. If you leave, she’ll feel betrayed or guilty.” Alistair half-laughed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t want you to leave either, I feel we have become friends. I’d worry about you,” he admitted.

Zevran’s eyes widened at Alistair’s confession, and then he smiled. “Very well, I will not leave, I will just be more careful in my actions than I have been. I must admit, I did not expect you to be so observant. However, we still need to talk.” He looked sternly at the younger man. “Alistair, Starr the child may have been fragile and was at the mercy of vicious men, men we will exterminate for the vermin they are as soon as we know _who_ they are. Starr the woman is  not a fragile flower who needs a big strong man picking up a piece of paper for her because she is too delicate.” Alistair winced at that description, and felt like an idiot. “I will be blunt; you may very well drive her away from you, which would hurt both of you. Tell me, Alistair, what are your intentions to my beautiful, _strong_ , intelligent and vibrant cousin?”

Alistair didn’t hesitate, “I love her and want to marry her. I want to wake up every day for the rest of my life and thank the maker that she’s by my side. I want us to watch Marcail grow up together and have children of his own. I want . . .” he stopped, embarrassed. “Of course, none of that matters if she doesn’t feel the same way. And why should she if I keep acting like an idiot.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps you just desire her because she’s your friend and happens to be incredibly beautiful. Certainly there are worse candidates for relieving you of your virginity . . .” Zevran got no further before Alistair was on top of him, hands at his throat.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that! She’s wonderful, special, she’s not a, a commodity to be used and discarded. I thought you cared about her?” Alistair was enraged and hurt that Zevran could actually think that about either of them. “Or,” he glared at the assassin, “do you want her for yourself? Are you planning on seducing her? Become _kissing_ cousins?”

Zevran smirked up at him, “This is quite an interesting position, Alistair, how far do you plan on going? This is not my preferred type of foreplay but it does have possibilities.” He watched in amusement as confusion then embarrassment washed over Alistair’s face. Alistair slowly got off him and looked into the distance, gritting his teeth. “I will admit that I find her very attractive and desirable. Cousin or no, if she returned my interest I would seriously consider pursuing her, but even if she finds me attractive, she has the bad taste to not want more. I reserve the right to continue to flirt with her, but her interest lies elsewhere and I am content to enjoy a relationship with her as friend and family member. I will not jeopardize that.” Zevran was serious as Alistair looked at him suspiciously. He sighed, “Perhaps it was clumsy of me, but I wanted to test the depths of your interest. I was trying to protect her.”

Alistair slowly relaxed. “I suppose what we found out the other night has us both a little crazy.” He sat there for a moment, “Wait a minute, what do you mean by that comment about my, umm, my virginity? Are you forgetting Marcail?”

“I was there Alistair, and I am not stupid. From Starr’s ramblings, it is obvious that Cailan is Marcail’s father, not you. It was a very noble thing you did, claiming Marcail as your own.” Alistair shrugged at the uncommon praise. “Trust me, I will not expose your secret, you are a natural father and Marcail is a lucky child. However, we are getting off track. I wanted to talk to you about Starr, and offer you the benefit of my experience, which is considerable.”

“What difference does it make? After what happened to her, I don’t see how she could even consider a romantic relationship. Especially with somebody like me. I know I want to be close to her, and then I think about it and start to worry about hurting her.” Alistair was absolutely miserable as he made this confession.

“I will be honest with you; many women don’t recover from such abuse, though some hide it well. I have known a few, and they all reacted differently. It will always be with her, but I have hopes for my cousin. She survived, she is not bitter, and she is comfortable with people. I have not seen her shy away from your touch.” Zevran wisely did not mention that Starr had responded to his own touch the morning after she was poisoned.

“Women are amazing and wondrous creatures, Alistair. No matter how inexperienced or clumsy the man, if a woman has feelings for him it does not matter.” He was amused at how hopeful Alistair looked at that prospect, “I have some questions for you. Have you ever kissed her?” Alistair nodded his head, thinking about Redcliffe as well as the other morning. “Good, did she respond, did she return your passion?” Alistair’s red face and sheepish grin were enough of an answer.

“We both know that she thinks she is ‘broken,’ to use her word,” Zevran’s nostrils flared angrily and Alistair clenched his fists. “However, neither of us believes that. You need to court her Alistair, convince her that you love her and that she is worthy of being loved. That she is not ‘broken.’ It will not be easy, the closer you get the harder it will be. She does not remember anything after you found her, nothing about what she said. You need to be prepared for her to push you away. You will need to determine when to push forward and when to draw back, or you could damage all your progress,” Zevran warned. “Fortunately for you, your childhood friendship will help her see you in your own light and make it harder to see you as a projection of her torturers.”

The two men were silent as Alistair absorbed Zevran’s words. Alistair sighed, and finally admitted to Zevran that he didn’t know the first thing about courting, “How do you woo somebody? I’ve never really had the opportunity before. Elissa was the first woman I met and liked who seemed interested in me. You saw how well I handled that.”

“So, you are truly woo-less? Never mind, Alistair. Starr seems to like you just as you are, although, to be fair, you are not the same man now that you were before Redcliffe. Fatherhood and Starr seem to agree with you. I can tell you how I would woo the celestial Starr, but it would not work for you. Be honest and be yourself, you know her as well as anybody. Use that knowledge to think of things that would make her happy. Little gifts, things you can do for her to show how much you appreciate her. Play it by ear, as we elves like to say,” Zevran stood up and waited for Alistair.

Alistair remained sitting, nervously fiddling with the grass. “Zev, can I ask you something else?” He refused to look up at Zevran. Zevran sat down again and waited, curious. “How do you know if a woman likes what you do? I mean when you’re intimate. If I ever get that far,” he ended on a mutter.

“Well now, _this_ I can help you with,” Zevran purred. “Communication is important to remember, though much of it is nonverbal. You may like something your partner does that they would not care for in return, but in terms of how our bodies react to sexual activity we like, men and women are fairly similar. Think back to the other morning in her tent, I know she started to seduce you,” Alistair looked up then, eyes wide. “Those are her words; she was a bit rattled by her actions. I do not think she was even talking to me, really. Close your eyes and remember that morning, remember when she touched you in a way you found exciting, how your body reacted. I don’t just mean your manhood. Did your flesh quiver from her touch? Did you breathe harder? Did your nipples react by becoming hard and erect? Did you clutch or want to clutch her closer to you?” With each question, the Antivan moved his face closer and closer to Alistair’s. “Did you flush from heat?” Flushing and swallowing nervously, eyes still closed, Alistair nodded and shifted uncomfortably, his britches now tight. “Open your eyes, Alistair. A woman’s body will react the same way to what she likes. You just need to pay attention to the signs. One more thing, if she does something you don’t like, it doesn’t mean she wouldn’t like it if you returned the favor.” Amused at Alistair’s red face and discomfort at his nearness, Zevran leaned back.

“You’re a very attractive man, Alistair. I prefer women, but I enjoy strong, handsome men as well. If you like, I could give you some practical experience as well as some relief,” Zevran playfully suggested.

“I always thought you were joking, just trying to embarrass me,” said Alistair, blushing.

Zevran looked at the young man, “the two of you are well-matched. You both seem to underestimate your charms. I may have been joking, but I was also serious about the possibility. If I thought you were interested I would have been more persistent, mostly you seemed to not understand my offers.”

Alistair was serious as he looked at Zevran, “Sometimes I didn’t, at least not until later. I’m flattered, I really am. I never even thought about men being with each other that way, at least not by preference. Sure, some of the other templars and trainees were together, but I always thought that was more out of convenience or desperation rather than deliberate choice. I don’t know if I could. I do know I want my first time to be with somebody I love and who loves me in return. I love Starr, and I would feel like I was cheating on her if I took you up on your offer. And you don’t deserve to be used that way, Zevran. You’re a friend, not a one-off or any more of a commodity than she is. You need to think more of yourself.” He stood up and offered his hand to the elf.

Zevran was touched. For once, he didn’t know what to say. He let Alistair help him up and they continued gathering firewood, each lost in their respective thoughts. Both of them had much to think about.


	21. Denerim

Starr stood by herself just inside the gates to Denerim, remembering. She remembered how excited she had been as a young girl, all the different people, the bustling marketplace, and the hopes of her family. She’d been looking forward to all the possibilities available to a young girl, Redcliffe seemed dull in comparison. To her young impressionable eyes, the Denerim Chantry was the most magnificent building in the world. So many people filled the streets, humans, elves and dwarves! She could hardly contain herself while her parents looked for their new home.

She also remembered the guards reporting the death of her family, losing her home, the injustice of life in the Alienage, having to look for work and shelter, a task made harder because she was determined to do honest labor that wouldn’t shame her parents. She remembered being taken –

“Starr, are you alright? You look a bit, I don’t know, lost,” Alistair looked into her eyes, concerned, she had been so still and sad. He brushed some hair back from her face, rested his hands on her shoulders, and waited.

Starr smiled at him, though it was a melancholy one. “Sorry, I was just remembering the first time I came to Denerim. My parents were so full of hope; one of the reasons they moved here was to give me opportunities that I wouldn’t have had in Redcliffe. Instead, they were killed and,” she fell silent and shrugged.

“Your parents loved you so very much, I used to envy you, you know,” Starr looked at him in surprise. “My mother was dead, my father wasn’t even there and I was just an inconvenient nuisance to everybody else. Then I met you and I saw what a family should be. And they were so kind to me. But sometimes, alone in the stable at night, I would get so mad. Why couldn’t I have a family who loved me? I even tried to pretend that I had never met you, but that hurt so much more than knowing what I was missing. I think I knew even then, that you would be the most important person in my life, and look how much you’ve given me. I know you miss your parents, Starr, but never doubt that they would be so proud of you right now. Maybe your life didn’t turn out the way they envisioned, but I know if they were here they would love you and be proud of you and absolutely adore Marcail.”

Starr briefly touched his face, her expression serious as she replied, “I never knew you ever felt that way, Stair. I think you should know something; they loved you very much. They even approached Eamon about adopting you, but he turned them down. I understand why, now, but it upset us all then. Mom and Dad decided not to tell you, worried that you would be hurt even more and made me promise not to say anything to you. I think if Isoldebitch would have allowed it they would have been happy just to have you living with us.”

“Thank you for telling me. Of course, if that had happened we’d be in a really weird position right now.” Starr raised her eyebrow, “I mean, claiming your brother as the father of your son? Even an adopted brother, the good people of Redcliffe might have run you out of town.” Starr snorted then stuck out her tongue at him. “I suggest that we stroll through the marketplace together, we can pretend to be a courting couple. Milady?” Alistair held out his arm in an exaggerated pose. Giggling, Starr took his arm and tossed her hair. Together, they caught up with their companions. Alistair snickered, “Isoldebitch? One day you are going to have to tell me about that, and why she doesn’t like you.”

Starr teasingly replied, “Maybe, if you’re a good boy, I’ll tell you the story. It doesn’t put me in a very good light, though.”

“Never.” Alistair lowered his voice and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, “and I promise to be a _very_ good boy. Whatever milady commands.” He was quite happy with the blush he invoked, and pressed her arm against him so she couldn’t move away. “So, do you think Morrigan and Sten have killed each other yet, back at camp?”

Elissa chimed in, “Fen and Griffon will keep that from happening. More likely, they are ignoring each other; I think they are both relieved not to be coming with us. Morrigan will probably come to Denerim later, but you have to remember that until us she had never been with so many people for such an extended period. I think she needs the breathing space.”

“Unless Griffon eats all her herbs again,” Zevran couldn’t resist pointing out. “Let us hope the mabari learned his lesson and is still a mabari when we return. What is our next step, dear Warden? Leliana and Wynne are already on their way to the Wonders of Thedas, Wynne is hoping they will have something useful for us, but refused to tell me what it might be. She is such a tease.”

“Better not let her hear you say that, you know she has no patience for your overdone flirting.” Elissa smirked at the elf, “be careful, my friend, or _you_ might be the one turned into a toad. Anyway, I want to wander around a bit, get a feel for what’s going on and what people are thinking before getting down to business. We might as well see if there’s any work on the Chanter’s Board. We’re going to need more coin soon.”

“Don’t forget the Blackstone Irregulars and the Mages’ Collective. You might also want to check in at the tavern, my dear Warden. Not only is it useful for information but sometimes the tavern keeper in a city such as Denerim knows of paying opportunities. If, of course, you are not too particular.” Zevran shrugged.

They had slowed near a stall run by a young Orlesian woman, Liselle. Starr and Elissa looked longingly at the display of flowers, scented oils and other items for a young woman’s toilet. Alistair noticed, “Well, since today we are a courting couple I think it only appropriate that I buy something for my lady love,” and walked over with Starr still on his arm. Starr was blushing profusely and protesting. Zevran and Elissa followed, intrigued.

_“Well done, Alistair,”_ thought Zevran. He was actually rather impressed at the young man’s ingenuity. He was not only smarter but more subtle than he usually let on. He kept his eyes idly roaming the marketplace, alert for any unwelcome attention but seeing none. Alistair’s next actions drew his attention back to his companions.

“Do you have any hair ribbons suitable for my lady’s beautiful hair?” Alistair queried. He was deliberately overplaying his role in order not to scare Starr off.

“Hair ribbons? Lady Isolde had some beautiful jeweled hair ribbons, once,” Starr’s voice faded off wistfully. She flushed as she remembered what happened to them. Alistair and Zevran exchanged glances behind her back and smirked.

“I am sorry I cannot offer you such elegant ribbons as that, but I do have a nice variety just in,” said Liselle, reaching into a basket behind her. “I have silk ribbons, velvet, some with lovely silver or gold embroidery. For every day, we also have some very nice cotton ribbons. A pretty ribbon paired with a treated flower looks lovely. These are dried flowers and these are enchanted, guaranteed to always look fresh. Perhaps your lady would like some of these?”

Alistair didn’t wait for Starr to refuse. He picked up a deep purple velvet ribbon and reached up to tie it around her hair. “When we first met, you were wearing a dress just this color. I thought I was looking at a princess from a storybook.” Starr blushed, eyes wide as he continued in a near whisper, “a princess with flowers in her hand and hair made of moonbeams. I _want_ you to have this ribbon, Starr. I’ve never forgotten how you looked that day. I want you to always remember how important you are to me,” all the love he felt showing in his eyes as he gazed into hers.

Starr didn’t notice the rapt and wistful attention of Elissa and Liselle, or the approval in Zevran’s eyes. She didn’t hear the bustle of the marketplace. She only saw warm hazel eyes; she only heard a husky whisper. She wanted to believe what he was saying was real. Tremulously she smiled; he barely heard her say “thank you” before she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips.

She lingered just long enough for him nibble on her bottom lip and deepen the kiss. When he reached out his tongue to trace her lips, she opened her mouth a little wider and their tongues moved together in a shy dance. He kept his hands on her shoulders to keep from crushing her in his embrace, and just enjoyed her response. A lovely moment later, he slowly broke off and leaned his forehead against hers. Smiling, he said, “You’re welcome, princess.” He held out his arm again for her to take and mentally breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled and took it. As he paid for the ribbon, he resolved to come back later and buy some more. He thought that maybe Wynne could help him with something else.

Clearing her throat, Elissa spoke up, “If we’re done here, we should move on. Liselle, who are some good armorers here in Denerim? And what can you tell us of the other merchants, where are the best places to go?” The four of them continued strolling around the marketplace, listening to people, examining goods and otherwise trying to blend in. They were moderately successful until they reached Wade’s Emporium.


	22. Arms to Shrew in a Day

“Warden,” they heard. And again, “Warden.” It was Sergeant Kylon of the City Guard. Warily they turned, but as the conversation between Elissa and the Sergeant progressed, they relaxed. He was a Grey Warden supporter, and a potentially useful ally who actually had work for them. Starr interrupted long enough to let Elissa know she was going to step into Wade’s Emporium. Elissa told Alistair to go with her and that she and Zevran would meet them there shortly.

Wade’s Emporium was . . . interesting. Herren ran the shop and Wade, even though Wade was the owner. When they entered, Wade was sulking because he was bored with standard equipment and armor. Alistair examined some of the items they had available and Starr walked over to Wade. “Excuse me, Master Wade; I have some armor I need to have altered. I heard you’re the best.”

“Is this what I’m reduced to? Repairing plain chainmail? Oh Herren, you deal with this, this customer,” Wade turned his back on Starr. Alistair glared at the man’s rudeness and was thinking of teaching him some manners. Luckily for all of them, Starr wasn’t fazed in the least.

“Are you done with your tantrum, _Master_ Wade?” Starr asked in her ‘mom’ voice, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. The three men looked at her in surprise; Alistair had to turn his head to hide his grin. Herren came out from behind the counter, ready to intercede though he wasn’t sure on whose behalf. “This is just my backup armor. I want you to alter my favorite armor; I am not quite the same size I was when it was given to me.” She proceeded to open the pack she’d been carrying all day. “As you can see, it’s very fine quality and I will only entrust it to the best.”

“This, this is very fine Dalish craftsmanship, Herren. And in excellent condition.” It would be an overstatement to say Wade was excited, but at least he wasn’t bored. The Dalish were so persnickety about sharing techniques, perhaps he could learn something by working with this set. “Woman, you go in there to put it on. I can’t promise to fix it until I see what needs to be done.” Wade rubbed his hands, hoping to get them on that armor.

Alistair had just settled himself against the wall to wait for Starr when Elissa and Zevran came in. He barely finished explaining when Starr came out of the other room. Alistair wasn’t even aware he gave a low growl. The sight of Starr in her too small Dalish armor went straight to his groin. Her breasts were overflowing her chestpiece, and that skirt was very short, exposing long slender legs. His own desire transfixed Alistair as he stared at her, _“Starr was backed up against the wall, long legs wrapped around his waist as he feasted on her breasts now released from their prison. As he licked and sucked and nibbled his hands were under that short, short skirt caressing the bare flesh before grabbing and lifting her over his manhood and then entering her in one hard, almost brutal thrust.”_

Zevran saw the heat in Alistair’s eyes and turned around. _“Well, well,”_ he thought, approving the vision in front of him. He saw all that creamy flesh and wanted to worship it, inch by slow inch. He wanted to lave that adorable belly button with his tongue. He wanted to  . . . _“Control yourself, Zevran. We need to get out of here before one of us embarrasses himself.”_ He convinced himself that it was Alistair and not himself who needed saving.

Elissa rolled her eyes. She really hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to make Starr leave their group, but if Alistair and Zevran were going to get so distracted . . . but maybe she wasn’t being fair. It was probably just because they were surprised. She really couldn’t blame them, if Starr was interested . . .

Starr noticed that Alistair seemed uncomfortable and walked over to them. Alistair tried to keep his eyes off her breasts, but it was hard. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Starr put her hand on his arm, “Stair, are you alright?” her eyes full of concern, completely innocent of the effect she had.

“Men never seem to enjoy shopping for long periods of time. I was just about to suggest that Alistair and Zevran check the Chanter’s Board and I’ll stay with you. They can meet us back here and we’ll save some time,” Elissa thought that was a good idea, even if it did start out as a lie. Alistair nodded his head, eager to get away before he ruined all the progress he had made with Starr. He looked at Starr through barely open eyes, but something in his gaze caused her to blush, a blush that covered the tops of her breasts. Stifling a groan, he nodded to her and quickly left, Zevran close behind.

“Slow down, my templar friend, the Chantry is this way,” Zevran called as Alistair strode off in a different direction.

“Later,” Alistair responded, but he waited for Zevran to catch up. “I need to cool down first,” he admitted, embarrassed to be talking about his personal condition.

“And the Chantry wouldn’t help you to ‘cool down’ as you put it?” Zevran was curious. “I would have thought all that religiousness would dampen any man’s ardor.”

Alistair just got redder and redder as he admitted, “Well, umm, seeing Starr like that, just as Elissa talked about the Chanter’s Board reminded me of something I, uh, overheard while I was training to be a templar. H-have you ever h-heard about the ‘N-naughty Sister and Raging B-brother?’” Alistair stopped. He needed to take some deep breaths, though he couldn’t remember the Antivan ever looking so surprised. He took a perverse sense of pride in that. “I may not have much experience, but I have a lot of imagination,” he muttered.

“When you and the celestial Starr finally get around to exploring your mutual passion, I want to watch. I imagine you will both be seeing stars. I might even learn something,” Zevran teased the suffering templar. “Better not let Morrigan find out you have a strong _imagination_ , she may start to pursue you to test your limits,” he was pleased at the look of horror that washed over Alistair.

“That did it. I feel much calmer. I’m going over . . . there, now.” Alistair quickly walked over to read a poster on the far wall. Zevran followed, chuckling. As he got closer to the young man, he heard Alistair muttering to himself, “Friends of the Wardens? Or not?”

Zevran read the poster, “It’s worth investigating, I think. Our fearless leader has agreed to a job that happens to be at this same establishment, the Pearl. I think she would be very interested in this, yes?” Alistair nodded in agreement. “Then let us be off.” The two of them casually strolled around the marketplace as they headed to the Chanter’s Board. Alistair insisted on stopping at Liselle’s again and purchased more hair ribbons and one or two other items, completely emptying his pockets in the process. He carefully put them in his pack.

When they reached the Chantry, Zevran went straight to the Board and Alistair stopped to talk to a sister who was the curator for the Denerim Chantry. “Do you know anything about the Urn of Sacred Ashes?” he began, and got involved in a lengthy discussion about religious artifacts and their authenticity. As they returned to Wade’s, Alistair felt more comfortable about their quest. Sister Justine seemed to be very knowledgeable, and believed that the Urn at least used to exist. Even though he was prepared, he was relieved as well as disappointed that Starr was in the familiar chainmail. Zevran was just disappointed.

They were outside, discussing their next steps when Alistair stopped them. “Wait, this is Goldanna’s house, I’m sure of it. Can we go in?” Alistair sounded nervous and hopeful.

“Goldanna, who is Goldanna?” Starr realized she was jealous, but tried to hide it. “Is she a friend of yours?”

“That’s right, I spoke about her to Elissa before we entered Redcliffe,” Alistair was delighted to hear the jealousy in her voice and for once was wise enough not to let it show. “After I joined the Wardens, I did some research, hoping to learn more about my mother. Goldanna is my sister,” he could have leapt for joy at the relief Starr couldn’t hide. Then he continued, nervously, “Sister, sis-ter, that sounds strange. Maybe we shouldn’t go in, and now I’m babbling. We should wait, we should . . .”

Starr stopped him with a finger on his lip. She looked at him closely and slid her hand to cup the side of his face. “Stair, you’ve been wanting a family your entire life. You can’t walk away now; you’d never forgive yourself. We’ll wait for you, right here. You’re not alone.”

Alistair took hold of her hand against his face, “Come with me, please,” he looked at Elissa and Zevran as well, “I’ll feel better with you there. I’m so nervous I’m afraid I’ll make a muck of it.” Starr couldn’t resist the pleading in his eyes, and nodded her agreement. After all, what were friends for? Still holding her hand, Alistair walked into Goldanna’s house with his friends.

A tired looking woman with dark blond hair greeted them, “Got some washing needs doin’?”

“Are you Goldanna? If you’re Goldanna then I’m Alistair, I’m your brother.” The woman admitted she was Goldanna but looked at Alistair as if he were daft. “Your mother, our mother, was a servant in Redcliffe castle?”

“YOU!” Goldanna practically spit out the word. “You killed our mother, you did. Your royal father forced himself on my mother. I told them the babe was the king’s and they threw me out. Gave me a sovereign to shut me up and that’s long gone!”

Elissa and Starr interrupted, protesting that that was hardly Alistair’s fault. “And who are you, some cheap tart looking to pick up some of his riches? You look like you’re giving him a good bounce or two,” Goldanna pointed her venom at Starr.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Alistair angrily shouted. “She’s my friend and the woman I love. She’s helping us, the Grey Wardens, fight the Blight.” He moved so that he was slightly in front of Starr, protecting her from any further attacks.

“Oooooooh, a prince and Grey Warden to boot! Well aren’t you special? I’ve got five mouths to feed and unless you can help with that you’re no use to me,” Goldanna snapped.

“Goldanna,” Elissa began, “Alistair came here hoping to find his family.”

“Well he’s found it.” Goldanna was calmer, but still irritated.

“Let’s just go, I guess there’s nothing here for me after all,” Alistair sounded so defeated it broke Starr’s heart.

Starr looked at Goldanna, all the disappointment she felt showing in her eyes. “I’m sorry you feel this way, Goldanna. I hope you change your mind one day,” she said quietly before leaving. Goldanna shifted her feet and watched them leave.

Once they were all outside, Alistair’s shoulders slumped, “That’s the family I’ve been looking for all my life? I thought family was supposed to accept each other. I feel like such an idiot,” he sighed despondently.

“You’re not an idiot, Alistair, but you need to learn to stand up for yourself,” Elissa stated.

“Stair, Nana-lin used to say there were two types of family. The family you were born with, and the family you surrounded yourself with, if you were lucky they were the same. You have people who care about you, don’t forget that.” Alistair straightened, and Starr continued, “But Elissa’s right. People look out for themselves, they stand up for themselves, and you need to do the same.”

Alistair threw his hands up, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s just go.” Starr and Elissa looked at each other in shared concern tinged with exasperation, and then they all followed him as he headed toward the Wonders of Thedas to find Leliana and Wynne.


	23. On to the Pearl

They finished talking to Weylon, Brother Genitivi’s assistant, and headed to the Pearl. First, they would take care of the mercenaries and then they would check out the information from the poster Alistair saw. Alistair hoped that for once the people who posted the sign were really friends. He was getting tired of everybody turning out to be somebody else who wanted them dead. Weren’t darkspawn and Loghain enough?

When Starr entered she let her gaze wander over what had once been both her home and her place of employment. It looked very much the same, clean and inviting. She remembered Sanga once saying that in order to have plenty of repeat business customers needed to feel welcomed and comfortable. She couldn’t believe she was nervous, that she wanted to see Sanga and Oskar, but was also afraid to see them. Except for one brief visit, she had avoided Denerim since she was dumped in the forest years ago and not made contact with anybody except for that one time. She was even more nervous than five years ago when Garren brought her to Denerim. Maybe because then she didn’t have much time to talk to them; Garren was very uncomfortable in the city and she had to get back to Marcail. She was grateful for Alistair’s solid presence next to her. They walked forward to join the rest of the group in time to hear a familiar voice saying, “That rascal Kylon sent you? That’s them, over there.”

After they got rid of the White Falcons without any bloodshed, Starr slowly walked up to Sanga. “Hello Sanga, you look well,” she chewed on her bottom lip as she waited for Sanga’s reaction.

Sanga looked at her closely and her smile changed from professional to personal, “Starr! We’ve missed you so much, especially Oskar. You look wonderful! Can you stay for a while?” Everybody except Alistair stared in surprise. Despite being a mother, Starr seemed so innocent in so many ways, yet she had friends in a brothel? That was, unusual. Elissa looked at Alistair to see how he was reacting to the news and saw that he knew and wasn’t bothered at all, at least not until Sanga mentioned Oskar.

“Sanga, I’m so glad you’re not mad at me. How is Oskar?” Alistair came up to them as they were talking, Starr started to introduce them, “Sanga, this is Alistair, he and . . .” she got no further when a handsome bear of a man in his ‘working clothes’ came charging towards them. Alistair and Zevran braced themselves to protect Starr, but were dumbfounded when she ran towards him and jumped into his waiting arms.

“Starr, my little Starr, you’re back! We were all so worried,” he laughed and cried in a big booming voice as he swung her around and around. He put her down and looked at her fondly. “Look at you, all grown up and lovely young woman.” He put his arms around her in a close hug. For a minute they just stood there, too emotional to talk. Her arms were around his neck and she relaxed against him like a little girl while he stroked her hair and held her like a protective father. They were an odd sight, the armored young woman and the handsome barely clad older man.

After a moment, Starr turned in his arms and spoke to Sanga, “I want to stay and talk, but first there is something Elissa wants to look into.”

“I understand there is a meeting of Grey Warden friends. We need to talk to them.” Elissa spoke quietly, judging Sanga’s reaction. Sanga’s scowl didn't surprise her as she nodded them in the direction of the back rooms. It confirmed that the poster was a trap. Without speaking, she looked at her companions and they prepared to move. It was disconcerting for Sanga and Oskar to see their ‘little Starr’ shift from young girl to experienced soldier before their eyes as she took up her position next to Zevran behind the two Wardens and readied her daggers.

It didn’t take long to deal with the fake sympathizers. Elissa didn’t want to think about how many people fell victim to Loghain’s trap, but she could at least be satisfied that no more would die.

Sanga was relieved when they came back out unharmed. She and Oskar came up to Starr, “Tonight you and your friends should join us in my private apartment; we can have dinner and relax. My assistant can handle things out here. You weren’t planning on leaving tonight were you?” Sanga looked first at Starr then at Elissa.

Elissa thought this would be a nice opportunity to relax, find out more about Starr, and a way to find out more about the general emotional/political climate in Denerim. “No, as a matter of fact we plan on being around Denerim for at least another day before we head out. But I don’t want to put you to any trouble, we . . .” she got no further before Oskar interrupted.

“Good. Iss settled. Starr can stay here with uss, there iss not much of the day left, and you will return soon for dinner and relaxation.” Oskar beamed at them. Laughing, Elissa agreed, but not before warning them there might be one or two more coming with them.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up like this. What if something happens? Or we need to communicate before then? I think somebody else should stay here,” Alistair protested. He didn’t want Starr out of his sight; memories of her poisoning were too recent for him to be comfortable leaving her alone in Denerim.

Elissa looked at him. And smiled, “Of course, Alistair, you’re probably right that one person shouldn’t be separated from the rest of us. Zevran, would you stay here with Starr? I think the two of you can take care of any trouble that might drop in on you. Don’t you think so, Alistair?” Zevran didn’t bother to hide his smirk, Leliana snickered and even Wynne turned her head to hide a smile.

Alistair gritted his teeth, but simply said, “Fine.” Taking a breath to calm himself, he turned to Starr and bowed, resuming his ‘courting’ role, “Milady, I fear we are to be parted, but I shall count the minutes till this evening when we meet again.” And to Sanga, “Madam, your courtesy and hospitality is much appreciated. I look forward to getting to know friends of my Starr.” Elissa was already moving towards the door and Alistair had to catch up. As he was leaving, they heard him counting, “One . . . Two . . .” Sanga began steering them to her private quarters.

“You know, oh celestial Starr, that he will probably count the minutes out loud all the way back to camp just to annoy our leader for not letting him stay here with you,” Zevran teased. Starr just shook her head.

“So, thiss young man iss courting our little Starr? Who iss he?” demanded Oskar. Zevran narrowed his eyes, not sure he liked the older man.

Luckily, Starr didn’t notice (or pretended not to notice) any tensions between the men. Addressing Sanga and Oskar, “He’s my best friend, I told you about him, Alistair from Redcliffe. He’s a Grey Warden now, as is Elissa, and I’m helping them. Zevran was already with them when I joined them. Zevran, Sanga gave me a job and a place to stay shortly after my parents died. Oskar was already here and became a good friend.”

“She iss like daughter to me, reminded me of my own little girl,” Oskar explained, a shadow of remembered grief briefly passing across his face. “She and my wife died years ago of fever, I had no heart to stay on farm after, so eventually made my way here. Sanga iss good woman.” He smiled affectionately at the brothel owner; something in the glance they exchanged made Zevran realize that Sanga and Oskar were involved.

Her arm through Starr’s, Sanga patted the younger woman’s hand. “Everybody was fond of her; she was like a daughter or little sister to most of us. We tried to protect her from coming in contact with the customers.” She looked sad for a moment.

“Sanga let me cook. I started off cleaning rooms and making beds, but the cook’s assistant left. I found I enjoyed cooking.” She fell silent, remembering how her time here ended. She owed Sanga and Oskar an explanation, but hesitated to say anything.

With the intuition developed over the years of reading customers, Sanga tactfully changed the subject. “We have added to our business since you were here. One of the warehouses next to us became vacant, I bought it and we converted it to a bathhouse and expanded the loft area to a larger, and more private, living space. Separate baths for men and women, with exclusive private rooms for customers willing to pay for the extra pampering. In addition to the baths, we offer manicures, pedicures, and a selection of lotions and oils for purchase. We’re very clean, and our services have a wide enough range that many can take advantage of them, not just the rich. For now we call it ‘You Deserve This.’”

“I mostly manage the bathss these dayss. Some of our people who are getting past the point of serving customers in the Pearl have opportunity to work here if they are willing. We have private hallway for customers who wish to visit brothel when they are finished with bath. We even have barber for men. Sanga iss good businesswoman,” Oskar said proudly.

“Ah, we have something similar in Antiva; Denerim is a good place for this type of business. Visiting diplomats, the Bannorn come to Denerim for business and pleasure, it is a port city and the home of Andraste . . . I can see many people who would appreciate the services you offer.”

“Hot baths?” Starr asked wistfully. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a hot bath. Even in Redcliffe, she couldn’t take the time needed to heat the water and really enjoy a bath. Not as a single mother.

Sanga nodded in understanding. Starr had never been a girly-girl, but she did like relaxing in hot baths. In fact, she was banking on the fact that every woman liked to pamper herself sometimes. “I would value your opinion of our operation, why don’t you and Zevran try it for yourselves?” Starr started to shake her head, not wanting to take advantage, until Sanga added, “It will give you and me a chance to talk privately, there are so many things I would like to catch up on.”

“I admit, that sounds wonderful.” Starr thought it would be easier to talk to Sanga alone; much as she loved Oskar, he was still a man and a second father. She had some questions and she didn’t feel comfortable asking them of a man, any man.

Sanga looked at Oskar; he nodded in agreement. “Come, Zevran, I will show you around. You want bath? You get bath. You want drink? We drink. We even have fine cigars, if you like.”

“After Starr gets settled and I am sure of her safety, of course,” Zevran thought Oskar could be a good source of information about the current situation in Denerim as well as who might have abducted Starr years ago.

Sanga proudly took them to the best of the private rooms. “Here a woman can be completely indulged. In here, they can have somebody wash their hair and massage their scalp while they bathe. We provide a massage table and a comfortable chair for a manicure or pedicure treatment. We also offer tea, coffee and wine. We call it the ‘Star Treatment.’”

“I am impressed, dear lady; this room would be the envy of many establishments in Antiva. You are to be congratulated,” Zevran bowed over Sanga’s hand before kissing her fingers, to the disgruntlement of Oskar.

“Sanga, this is truly wonderful. I’m not sure I’d be able to take advantage of it if Marcail were here, but I will fully enjoy myself now.” She wandered around the room taking in everything.

Oskar and Sanga looked at Starr, curious. Oskar crossed his arms, “Who iss thiss Marcail? Another suitor? Why iss he not here with you?”

Starr kept her attention on the lotions as she answered, “I don’t have any suitors.” She didn’t see the looks of disbelief on Oskar and Sanga, or the understanding on Zevran. Turning around, she looked at her old friends and second family, “Marcail is my son. He’s seven years old. He’s safe with some friends back in Redcliffe.”

“My little Starr iss mother herself? I hope to meet him, I am sure he iss fine boy, just like hiss mother,” Oskar smiled as Sanga hugged the younger woman.

“I always thought you would make a wonderful mother some day, when it’s safe I hope you bring him to Denerim if you don’t mind introducing us.” She and Oskar looked at each other behind Starr’s back. They were pretty sure Marcail was a result of when Starr went missing. Grief for what she must have endured passed over both their faces. “Well, you aren’t going to get your bath if we all stay here,” Sanga finally said. “Starr, I am sure you won’t want to put on that armor again right after you bathe. Stay here, if you gentlemen will step outside Starr can begin to undress and prepare. I will be right back.” She shooed the two men out of the bathing chamber and hurried off.

While waiting for Sanga to come back, Oskar and Zevran leaned against opposite walls and took the measure of the other. Zevran saw a man who seemed to care for Starr, as a father would, but who did not protect her when she needed it. He decided to reserve further judgment until he knew more.

Oskar saw a dangerous man who traveled with his daughter. He saw a man who was used to deception, was he being deceitful about his affection for Starr? How did such a man come to be traveling with the Wardens? He hoped the elf had satisfactory answers.

The silence was broken when Sanga returned. “Okay, men, off you go. We have some quality girl time ahead of us.” She swished inside and closed the door behind her. When she heard the men move off, she looked at Starr, her face full of sorrow. “I am so sorry, Starr, that we couldn’t protect you better. We looked for you, but there weren’t even any rumors though we had our suspicions.” She stood there, tears in her eyes, ready to spill down her face.

Starr choked up; seeing this Sanga came forward and they hugged each other tightly, the motherless young woman and the woman who saw in Starr the family she would never have. “It’s not your fault, I’m glad you didn’t find me. They would have killed you just as they killed Vionna. It was, it was awful,” and she started to cry. For the first time since her abduction, she let out all the pain, shame and sorrow she’d been holding in. She fell to her knees from the weight of it; Sanga held her in her arms and cried with her.

Out in the hall, Oskar directed Zevran to the men’s side and the barber. Moving unusually fast and silently for a big man, he grabbed Zevran by the throat and held him against the wall, feet off the floor, “So, _Crow_ , what iss assassin doing with my Starr and the Wardenss? You think I don’t know assassin when I see one? I know you have dagger out, but I will crush your throat even if you manage to kill me. So talk!”

Zevran quickly assessed the situation. He knew he could kill the angry bear, though his own survival might be in question. However, he knew Starr cared for this man, and would grieve for him. She had enough grief in her life without him adding to it if he could avoid doing so. He put away his daggers and rested his hands on Oskar’s forearms to demonstrate his unwillingness to resort to violence. “I was hired to assassinate the Wardens, but they spared me instead. I took the opportunity to leave my past associates and my allegiance is now to the Warden, not the Crows. I do not mind telling you, I am quite fond of Starr and wish her no harm. Why didn’t you protect her seven, no eight years ago?” His eyes were merciless as they probed the other man’s. He recognized the guilt and grief that filled them; indeed, he had experienced the same himself.

Oskar dropped him and stepped away. He led Zevran to an empty room and locked the door so they would be uninterrupted. He walked over behind a tall counter and brought out brandy and cigars. He poured each of them a glass and offered the cigars to Zevran, who took one and sniffed it appreciatively. They sat down with their drinks and looked at each other.

Back in the private bath, Starr finally stopped crying. She whispered, “Oh Sanga, I’m so afraid I’m broken, that I can’t be with anyone. For a long time I didn’t think it mattered, but” she stopped, unable to voice the confusion she felt inside.

“But now you find yourself attracted to your old friend and are wondering about what could be,” Sanga finished for her. Starr nodded her head, miserable. “Some of the girls who find their way to the Pearl were abused at one point. Yet they are able to be with men and women, a few have even left because they found a life with somebody who cared for them in spite of their past. Do you love Alistair, I mean beyond being a friend?”

“I, maybe, I don’t really know,” Starr shyly admitted. She could talk to Sanga, though she was still embarrassed. “I like it when he kisses me. I like looking at him, especially when he’s not wearing heavy armor. Sometimes,” she bit her lip before continuing, “When he is walking ahead of me, I can’t help thinking that his rear is like two firm, ripe apples that I want to take a bite out of. Is that weird?”

Sanga smiled at her and stroked the side of her face, “He is a very handsome man, and finding him good enough to eat is not bad. I can easily envision nibbling on him, figuratively speaking. That you can respond to him is a good sign, it is normal for a healthy young woman to find somebody desirable and to respond to their touch, whether love is involved or not. Passion has its own rules, and they vary from person to person.”

“But what if I really am broken? Some of the things that happened, Alistair deserves somebody whole and I don’t know if I can be that for him or anybody else,” Starr reiterated her deepest fears. “I know I’m damaged, but what if I can’t be fixed?”

Sanga was outraged, “Don’t you dare say that! What happened to you is not your fault, why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I have scars, a lot of scars. There was a man I thought I might be getting close to, and who seemed to like me. He was a decent man, and he treated me with respect. Until I told him a little of what happened, then he said he couldn’t be with ‘damaged goods’ and that was that. Whenever we saw each other afterwards he was courteous, but cool, as if I were a stranger.” Starr shrugged.

“I won’t deny men can be complete idiots. Some men believe that women are supposed to be pure and unblemished in mind and body, if they are to be considered worthy of marriage. That otherwise they are whores. I’m sorry that you came across one of those. Has Alistair seen any of your scars?” Starr nodded. Sanga continued, “What was his reaction?”

Starr flushed as she remembered that one morning, “He said I was wonderful, he admired me, and he k-kissed them. He said I was only as broken as I wanted to be. But he doesn’t know everything.”

“Then talk to me, maybe I can help,” Sanga held her breath until Starr started talking. The younger woman was hesitant at first, and then it was as if a dam broke and she couldn’t stop talking. She told Sanga how she and Vionna were both taken, that she was ‘gifted’ to a nobleman who was to break in a new whore, that Vionna was held hostage pending her good behavior and return; Starr quietly cried as she spoke about her return, the humiliations and degradations she endured, the activities performed on her. Sanga felt sick as Starr told her how long she was held, that sometimes the guards would be rewarded for good behavior and allowed to ‘play’ with her under the watchful eye of the blond lord. Starr’s voice broke as she told Sanga how she had to convince them she wasn’t pregnant, and what happened afterwards. Sanga paled as she realized all the physical damage suffered by the young girl, and understood why she thought she might be broken. Starr ended with the Dalish finding her in the forest before going quiet.

“I’ve seen and heard a lot, but this is worse than I could have imagined. I am so sorry, Starr, that anybody ever had to suffer what you have. I think I understand why you think you might be ‘broken,’ as you put it. You are worried, are you not, that if you get that close with somebody, the damage done inside you might be a permanent barrier of some sort?” Starr nodded her head. “There’s one way to find out. For now, I will tend to you during your bath; I think you deserve the pampering. When we are done, we will head to my apartment and I can send for the midwife/healer we use. If you let her examine you, then you can find out the facts about any long-term damage, but only if you are willing. Are you?”

Starr rather shakily replied, “Yes, I, I need to know. I need to know what my options for the future might be.” She refused to mention Alistair, still unsure of her feelings toward her old friend.

Sanga smiled, “Well then, let’s get that armor off. I’ll put it over here for now. I’ll wash your hair and brush it while you relax.” She schooled her face not to react when she saw the scars on Starr’s back, but it was difficult. “Now for the first important decision, what fragrance do you want?”

Starr listened as Sanga listed the selections. When she heard ‘Vanilla Rose,’ a vision of Alistair’s face appeared in her mind and her eyes strayed to the purple hair ribbon carefully placed on the shelf. She made her choice. The two women spoke of many things: the political climate in Denerim, Anora, fashion, the Dalish, Starr’s current companions, Oskar, Marcail. By unspoken agreement, they didn’t speak any more of Starr’s abduction, devoting this time to renewing their friendship and strengthening the bond between them.

Elsewhere, the heady aroma of good cigars and fine brandy filled the room before Zevran looked at Oskar through the smoke and broke the silence. “Who took Starr and hurt her?”

Deep grief overrode all other emotion in Oskar’s face as he answered, “I have susspicions. Possibilities, but we find nothing. Not even bare hint of a rumor. Nobody saw anything; nobody heard anything. Ass far ass anybody wass concerned it wass just a whore and an elf who went missing, nobody important, nobody of worth.” Bitterness filled his voice as he spat out the last. “The guards said they would look into it, but they weren’t going to waste any energy. It didn’t matter that thesse were two young girls.” He looked at Zevran and saw death. “I will not tell you susspicions. Susspicions are not fact. With fact, we act. Without fact, we increasse security and make sure girls not go out alone.” He put out his cigar as if it tasted bad. “For weeks we look. Sanga saw her five years ago, briefly. I wass not here. Sanga said she wass sad, but appeared to be well. Left with other elf, Dalish. We finally stop looking.” He took a big gulp of brandy.

“I doubt she felt safe in Denerim, and she has a son to protect.” Zevran finally decided that Oskar’s affection was genuine, so he relaxed as he spoke, “Starr is quite the fighter, and she’s not a helpless little girl anymore. Her son is being well taken care of away from the city. She’s a good mother.”

“And thiss Alistair, you and he care for my Starr? Watch out for her?” Oskar demanded. “Iss Alistair good man? Being Grey Warden iss not same as being good man. Iss obvious he desires her, and you, but desire iss not enough.”

Zevran didn’t like being questioned. Being questioned by the father of a woman he cared for was definitely a new experience and he was quick to deflect paternal interest to the absent templar, “I will admit Starr is a beautiful woman, a man would have to be blind and stupid not to find her attractive, but she is not enamored of my many charms. So, we remain friends. Alistair, however, yes, you could say he is a suitor. And he’s a good man, but very inexperienced with women.”

“Then we have to make sure he learn something. Iss important for man to know how to treat women. I want only best for my little girl.” His smile was one of pure devilment as he looked back at Zevran, who could see why he did so well in his profession at an age when most whores had left the business. “Now, you tell me in detail how Crow travels with Wardens and my little Starr. That iss not way Crows operate.” And so, a lengthy, mutual interrogation began over more brandy and more cigars. Zevran found out much about the current situation in Denerim, as well as enough for his own suspicions about Starr’s attackers. Oskar received some information about those traveling with Starr, especially Alistair. Enough information, which, if confirmed by his own impressions of her companions later, made him feel more comfortable about her welfare.


	24. How I Met Your Mentor

Zevran was wrong. Alistair stopped counting long before they got back to camp. In fact, he got so quiet that Elissa finally dropped back to talk to him, to ask what was wrong. “I was thinking about what you and Starr said, after we left Goldanna’s. You’re right, you know. I do need to think of myself more, look out for me and not just everybody else or I will never be happy. If I can’t stand up for myself, I don’t really have the right to complain that things aren’t the way I want them.”

Elissa looked at him thoughtfully, “I’m glad, Alistair. I want you to be happy; you’re a good man and a good friend.” She couldn’t help teasing him, “As long as you do what I tell you, of course.”

“Ha, I will, unless you’re wrong, of course,” he jokingly replied.

Soon they were back at camp. Morrigan decided to go with them to the Pearl while Sten preferred to remain behind, presumably so he wouldn’t have to endure any more of Morrigan’s seduction attempts.

They reached the Pearl without incident and were taken to Sanga’s living quarters where Sanga and Starr greeted them. Sanga thanked them for the flowers they had picked on the way while the sight of Starr in a dress of emerald and sapphire rendered Alistair speechless. She was wearing his hair ribbon and her toenails, which Sanga had painted a deep rose, peeked out below the hem. For a moment, it was as if he was viewing Starr in two places, Sanga’s home as well as through a veil of what might have been if neither of them had ever left Redcliffe as children. Finally, after Elissa elbowed him, he stepped forward and, looking at Starr, finally spoke, “Wow, you look amazing.” Before Starr could reply, he continued, “Even your feet are pretty. You always look beautiful and sexy, even covered in darkspawn, but tonight you look really pretty.”

Most of the women smiled in amusement, but Morrigan snorted, “Ugh, beautiful and sexy covered in darkspawn? Perhaps there is something we should know about you before we continue on this quest of yours?”

Zevran and Oskar joined them just then, carrying bottles of wine and overhead the last two comments. “Alistair, my friend, your turn of phrase is uniquely your own, for which we must all be grateful.” Putting down the wine, he came forward to greet his cousin, “Beautiful indeed, o comely one, although I think I prefer seeing you like this as opposed to you covered in darkspawn. They are unfriendly and do tend to smell rather foul.” Bringing her hand to his lips he added, “You, on the other hand, smell divine.”

Starr, as he expected, blushed. Then she surprised him by leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek, “You smell rather good yourself, clean with a hint of brandy and cigars. Did you and Oskar have a good time?”

“Hey, what about me? Don’t I get a kiss on the cheek?” Alistair protested, only half playfully. Before Starr could answer, Oskar indicated she should stay where she was and, coming from behind the young man, he gave him a loud smacking kiss on his cheek. Everybody laughed at the templar as Alistair sputtered and turned red. Starr finally came over to him and kissed his other cheek, twining her fingers with his. She felt freer and lighter than she had in a long time. The afternoon with Sanga had helped her immensely.

Dinner was a happy, boisterous affair. Even Morrigan seemed to enjoy the company. Oskar insisted that Alistair sit next to him. He was determined to take the measure of the young man. Sanga and Oskar had amusing stories to tell about life at the Pearl; Leliana regaled the group with some of her favorite tales. Finally, Oskar asked one of the questions he and Sanga were most curious about, “Starr, my little one, why Ostagar? That iss not place I expect for young mother.”

Starr was a little tipsy as she answered, “I promised a man named, named Duncan. That I would help fight the Blight. So I did, am, helping, that is.” Amused, Sanga took her wineglass away and replaced it with water.

“You knew Duncan?” exclaimed Alistair at the same time Elissa asked, “How did you meet? What happened?”

“I threatened to kill him.” Alistair’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Morrigan laughed, Elissa’s jaw dropped, the others were fascinated. Starr continued, oblivious to the reactions she caused, “Well, that might be an exaggeration. We, Marcail, Fen and me, were on the road. We left the Dalish a couple m-months earlier and were traveling near the North road. I think we were going to Highever, but that may have been later. Anyway,” she paused and took a big drink of water, “Fen signaled there were people ahead so I sent Marcail up a tree to hide. He had his bow ready just in case. Fen stayed in the underbrush while I moved forward to check out the situation.” The scene replayed in her head as she spoke.

_It was sunny, the armor given to her by the Dalish already a little tight. As soon as they had some money, she was going to have to get her armor refitted or get a second set. As she and Fen moved forward in tandem, she had her bow ready. Rounding a curve in the road, she heard sounds, loud voices and pleading ones. Soon she was able to see what was happening: some bandits were threatening a merchant couple. She moved into the brush so she could move up on them without their notice. There were only six of them, if she got close enough she could take out a couple with her arrows and give the merchants time to move away while she and Fen engaged the rest. She remembered her parents; nobody helped them. She wasn’t going to let that happen to somebody else._

_“Please, ser, take our coin and let us go. We don’t have much,” the merchant, an older man, entreated. His wife, a younger woman, clutched his arm._

_“We’ll take your coin alright, old man. You do have something else we can use, we’ll leave your woman in one piece when we’re done with her, right boys?” their leader sneered and leered. The woman screamed and the bandits struck the man down when he tried to prevent them from taking his wife. Starr let loose with her arrows, not willing to wait any longer, and Fen charged, howling. The woman pulled her husband under the wagon as the thugs charged the unexpected threat. Fen savaged the men she had pinned with her arrows while she pulled out her greatsword and attacked the others coming her way. She burst through them with a Dalish war cry, her sword slicing through them easily. Two of them fell dead at her feet. Leaping away from the merchant, she taunted the remaining bandits and replaced her sword with daggers, she always felt more comfortable with daggers in melee situations. Pivoting and thrusting, dancing through the men easily, working together she and Fen quickly destroyed the rest of them._

_After making sure they were all dead, and listening for others, Starr moved to the merchant’s wagon. Kneeling down, she looked at the woman under the wagon, “Are you alright? How is your husband?” Sobbing with relief, the woman said she was fine. Her husband groaned and started to come to. “They’re all dead; you can both come out now. I’ll wait and make sure you are able to travel.” Starr stood up and moved away, scanning the area again. She noticed a group on a hill, watching and not moving. They didn’t appear to be a threat, so Starr disregarded them for the moment. Not seeing anything else, she sent Fen to get Marcail, but indicated they should come back quietly through the bushes and stay there until she called._

_Fortunately, the merchant only needed a healing poultice for his head. “I want to repay you for your assistance, but we don’t have much money, we’re taking goods to Denerim to sell. I don’t suppose you would be willing to travel with us, as a guard, and then we could pay you from the profits?” he asked, hopefully._

_“I’m sorry, but my destination is in the opposite direction. I’m glad I could help,” Starr noticed that the men on the hill were starting to move._

_“Then at least take a look at our goods, there must be something you can use,” the merchant insisted. His wife chimed in with her agreement. “I have some food, cloths, utensils, weapons and bits of armor.” He saw Starr’s interest at the mention of armor, “please, I insist.”_

_Starr looked at the armor; there were some nice pieces among them. There was an especially nice set of silverite armor, but she wasn’t going to take one of the most valuable things they had. She noticed a decent piece of chainmail. There were no boots, gloves or helmet to go with it but it would answer the immediate need. The merchants were more than happy with her choice, they felt honor had been satisfied and were happy she didn’t take advantage of the situation. As they were putting away the silverite, Starr’s eyes fell on some small packages among the food. Curious, she pointed to them, “What is in those packages, they seem to be specially wrapped?”_

_The young woman answered, “Candied ginger.” Seeing Starr’s interest she continued, “It can be eaten as is or used in cooking. Please, take some. I insist, what those men would have done to me . . .” she shuddered. Starr accepted, gratefully. She thought it might be a nice treat for her and Marcail one evening._

_The merchants were ready to go. Starr bid them farewell, “Travel safely. There are some men heading in this direction. I don’t think they are bandits, but I’ll make sure of that while you move on as quickly as you can.” The merchants hurried off, and Starr waited. She had no qualms about looting the bodies of anything useful while she waited for the men to draw near. They didn’t have much, some belts, bits and pieces of jewelry, a few silvers and a few potions and poisons. She was unimpressed with their weapons and armor, so left that behind. She pulled out some cloth and began cleaning her sword, keeping it ready but relatively non-threatening as the men finally approached. It also might distract them from the fact her bow was ready._

_As soon as they were in earshot, she hailed them. “Where are you gentlemen headed, if you don’t mind me asking? You need to be careful; there are bandits in the area.”_

_The oldest of the four men, dark and grizzled, hair pulled back and wearing an earring, neat beard, answered, “Yes, we were debating whether to intervene when you showed up. You dispatched them quite handily; you have quite an interesting collection of skills.”_

_“You were_ debating _whether to help? You carry those weapons just for show?” Starr didn’t hide her scorn._

_Stung, one of the younger men replied, “Hey, back up a minute there, love, we’re Grey Wardens. We can’t get involved with every brawl. We need to concentrate on the darkspawn.” At that, Starr made a big show of looking around the empty countryside before looking back at the Wardens, skeptically._

_The younger men were bristling. It offended their masculine pride to be looked at like that by a beautiful young woman. The older man hid a smile before replying, “You have made your point, friend. However, in our defense there are dangerously few Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Perhaps we are sometimes too cautious in offering aid in situations such as this. I assure you, when the bandits started to physically harm instead of just rob the merchants we did move forward. Fortunately for them and us, you intervened quite capably. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Duncan, Warden-Commander of the Fereldan Grey Wardens. These young men are new to the order and we were conducting some field-training while on our travels to recruit new Wardens. In fact, I believe you would make a fine addition to the order. Would you consider joining us?”_

_“No.”_

_“Won’t you reconsider? A Blight is coming and we can use more Grey Wardens. Your skills are considerable, indeed.”_

_“Sorry, I have other obligations which must take priority.” Starr was ready to move. She was convinced they weren’t robbers, and she wanted to get on her way._

_One of the young men suggested that Duncan conscript her, if he thought she would be so valuable to the order. Starr narrowed her eyes at the man, “Conscript me? As in give me no choice? That would be counterproductive,” she snapped at him. She readied her sword as she watched and waited._

_“Would you fight us all in order not to become a Warden?” Duncan was curious._

_“If you try to keep me from doing what I need to do, you die. I have other responsibilities, I told you.” The other wardens stirred behind Duncan, but followed his lead and made no moves against Starr._

_Duncan studied her for a moment, he had no doubt that she was prepared to fight and with her skills, there was a chance somebody would die. “In spite of the precipitate suggestion of my comrade I have no intention of invoking the right of conscription. I would like to know what you consider more important than the protection of Ferelden against darkspawn, if you don’t mind.”_

_Starr looked him in the eyes, and made her decision. She stepped back, whistled and gestured at the bushes. They weren’t surprised to see Fen again, but they were surprised when a young boy stepped out, bow and arrow poised to shoot at the man threatening his mother. “This is my son Marcail and our friend Fen. It’s just the three of us.”_

_Looking at the two of them, Duncan made some swift calculations. For a second he felt pity for the young woman in front of him, but respect and admiration for her courage quickly replaced it. She had learned at an early age that life could be difficult and she didn’t give up. Pity, she really would have made a fine Grey Warden. “I understand, and we won’t detain you further. I will ask you to notify us if you see any signs of darkspawn activity. You can send notice to me at our compound in Denerim. Any assistance you can provide will be appreciated. I believe the darkspawn will make their move relatively soon, probably in less than five years. It doesn’t give us much time to prepare.”_

_“I can do that, if I see any signs of darkspawn or affected areas I will let you know. If King Cailan musters an army, I promise to help in any way I can.” She nodded to Duncan and then she was off with Marcail and Fen beside her._

“I sent him word whenever I came across something I thought might be related to darkspawn. We didn’t see each other again until Ostagar, when I was giving an updated report to King Cailan. It was just before we went out on that last scouting expedition.” Starr reached for her water and took several swallows. She wasn’t used to talking so much at one time.

“Well. Hmmm. I, for one, am glad that it turned out as it did, otherwise I might still be washing dishes in the Chantry.” Alistair mused. “That gets rather boring after a while, let me tell you.” The others chuckled in agreement.

“So, what was King Cailan like, and did you meet Loghain?” Leliana asked, eager for another’s opinion of those two men. She was surprised when Starr put her head in her hands and groaned.

“Leliana . . . oh well, I might as well get my embarrassing moments at Ostagar told all at once. The first time I met King Cailan at Ostagar I bowled him over. Literally. On his rear and into some mud.”

Everybody laughed and wanted more information, Zevran chuckled, “Bellissima, you certainly make an interesting first impression. I think I speak for all of us when I insist you tell us more.”

“We were back from our first scouting venture. Fergus was seeing to some of the men who had gotten hurt and asked me to give a report to the king and Loghain. I think he was being kind, he told me that I could go to my tent afterwards before reporting for duty. We were soon to head out again.” Starr chewed on her bottom lip as she got her thoughts in order. “I was in a hurry, I wanted to give my report and get some socks before we went back out. I had to use mine for bandages because we ran out. Boots with no socks are not comfortable, if I hadn’t been worried about stepping on darkspawn bits I would have just continued barefoot.”

Starr shook her head, “As I said, I was rushing; I rounded a corner just as somebody was coming. Only he had his back to me, I tried to avoid him but he moved in the same direction and as he turned to face me, I ran into him and knocked him down. Right into the mud. I started to apologize and move off, and then I recognized him.” She looked around the table at her amused companions. “Can you imagine how mortified I felt? Asked to give the king my report and the first thing I do is knock him into the mud? I could hardly apologize, I was stammering so badly. He held out his arm to me, as if requesting a hand up, and I took it of course. He was more dexterous than I expected, because I ended up sitting in the mud next to him! I must have looked a sight, sitting in the mud, hair wild and mouth wide open, stunned. He burst out laughing and said ‘Now we’re even.’” Starr looked at Leliana, “Cailan had a knack for making people feel comfortable around him, I think that’s one of the reasons he was so well loved by the people of Ferelden. He was Maric’s son, but he reminded them he was human and not some untouchable myth. I don’t think he ever forgot that the heart and soul of Ferelden was its people and culture.”

“As we’re sitting there, I explained why I was looking for him. Loghain came towards us and asked if we were going to sit in mud all day like a couple of children. Well, Loghain’s dour nature was like catnip to Cailan at times. Cailan looked at me and grinned, I knew exactly what he was going to do, and sure enough, Loghain was in the mud with us. I don’t think Loghain ever forgave me, but Cailan and I became friendly after that. It’s hard to be formal when you’ve sat in the mud with someone.” She looked at Alistair sitting next to her as she spoke. They smiled at each other, remembering when they were children and often covered in mud. He took her hand in his as she continued. “He was more thoughtful and intelligent than many gave him credit for, I think he may have been light-hearted by nature but learned to use it to hide his thoughts.”

“Ooh, sounds like another common Therein trait. I have heard that King Maric was like that as well. Part of their charm, I think. Alistair does the same, does he not?” Leliana interrupted. Alistair pondered over the similarities with the father and brother he never knew. Starr guessed where his thoughts were and squeezed his hand.

Alistair interjected, “You know, the story of Cailan and Loghain in the mud with a beautiful scout quickly made the rounds. Did you know that Cailan insisted to Fergus that you be the one to report to him? Loghain wanted to discipline you for not being more professional but Cailan overruled him.” He didn’t mention the other rumors that had swirled around the king and the scout.

“I didn’t know that, no wonder Loghain always glared at me. I think Cailan just liked talking to me. After I gave my reports, he would insist I stay and talk to him. I think it was because I wasn’t part of the royal circle, I wasn’t one of his soldiers or guards, and I wasn’t connected to the Bannorn. He could be himself and we could talk about different things. Not that I became his confidante, but I think we became friends to some extent. He was a good man.” There was momentary silence as the group thought about the late king and his undeserved fate, what his death meant to the country.


	25. Alistair Gets an Education

The group grew more relaxed as the night wore on. Starr found herself with another glass of wine, she’d never had wine before and she quite enjoyed it. She didn’t realize she was getting quite tipsy. Alistair came up to her, a glass of water in his hand, “Starr,” he said carefully, not wanting to slur his words, “have you ever had wine before?” He was only slightly drunk, he couldn’t drink much and he had enough experience with unpleasant morning afters to avoid them, and he certainly didn’t want his Starr to suffer although her soft, slightly unfocused look was incredibly arousing, he imagined it was how she would look after they made love, Maker willing. When Starr shook her head, he traded glasses with her. He put his glass on the table and waited while she drank the water. He added the empty water glass to the wine glass and pulled her into his arms. “You know, Leliana is playing her lute and Anders is not the only man who knows how to dance. One of the Revered Mothers got it into her head that the templars should learn. I don’t know why she thought it was important, but I actually enjoyed it, except when I had to be the girl.”

Starr giggled and let Alistair whirl her around the floor, soon Zevran and Elissa and Oskar with Sanga joined them. Eventually he slowed, and she rested her head on his shoulder, breathing him in and nuzzling, just a little. Alistair tightened his grip and immersed himself in the moment, enjoying the feel of her against him, no armor between them. “I’m glad you’re wearing the ribbon I bought you,” he whispered into her ear and felt her shiver in response. She looked up at him, her eyes a shimmery blue with violet, and she just smiled at him before dropping her head down again. They were oblivious to the conversations around them as they continued their slow dance.

“Thiss Alistair seems like good man,” Oskar admitted to Sanga. “They look good together, like they belong. Like you and me,” he added, grinning at Sanga. “My little girl, she seems . . . mmmm . . . lighter than earlier today. You have good talk? I saw healer Maggie come by earlier.”

“Ye-es. Oh Oskar, she suffered so much more than we imagined. She was so badly hurt, had so many doubts and she’s carried all that pain for years. At least she has some answers now and can decide what she wants.” Sanga smiled up at the big man, “They do look like two halves of a whole, don’t they? I understand he’s rather innocent, or maybe inexperienced is a better word.”

Oskar chuckled. “Ha, elf and I, we have plan. Man should know how to pleasse hiss woman, like I pleasse beautiful Sanga. We give him basic knowledge, so he can treat her better if he lucky enough for her to accept him. Tonight we do thiss, it will be fun,” he laughed with wicked delight, Sanga laughed with him, secure in the knowledge that Alistair would not be forced into doing anything he wasn’t ready for. And where better to learn something about pleasing a woman?

“I don’t think Alistair has ever been as happy as he is right now,” Elissa murmured as she danced with Zevran. “I never would have guessed that he might be a good dancer. Although,” Zevran dipped her just then, “I don’t think he knows all your moves. You are very smooth, Zevran.”

Zevran smiled at her, “I am happy that you noticed, my dear Warden. Dancing can be very seductive when done well, do you not think?” Elissa smirked in answer. Zevran started to put his plan in action, “However, the lovely Starr and her handsome soldier seem to have imbibed perhaps a bit more wine than is wise, at least for walking back to camp late at night. Sanga has offered rooms for all of us, if we so desire. What say you?”

Elissa looked at Zevran, “That’s very kind of her, but why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me? I think you’re up to something.” Skepticism came easy when talking to Zevran.

“My dear Warden, how you wound me,” Zevran gave a big theatrical sigh. “If you must know, I do plan on being ‘up to something’ with a beautiful young woman I met earlier this afternoon. Do you wish to know details? We could arrange some company for you, if you wish,” he leered wickedly at her. He wasn’t at all surprised when she declined.

Wynne and Morrigan watched the dancers and Leliana. Wynne enjoyed watching them, all those handsome younger people enjoying themselves. Morrigan looked at the older mage, “I don’t understand the point of all this, if they want to have sex there are plenty of places to go. Why all this public touching?”

“Morrigan,” Wynne looked at the prickly young woman and carefully phrased her answer, “dancing with somebody who dances well can just be fun; you might want to try it yourself.”

Oskar approached them; both mages looked at him appreciatively. “Beautiful women should not be sitting on sidelines watching other people dance. Would either of you care to join me while music still livess?” Oskar gave a shallow bow and waited.

Wynne urged the younger woman to accept. “Go on Morrigan, you might not get a better opportunity to learn.” Morrigan scowled at her but accepted, if for no other reason than to not give the old woman an excuse to berate or tease her later. Oskar, was careful to keep her at arm’s length, she obviously didn’t care to be too close to other people. He explained the basic steps and they began. Stiff at first, Morrigan relaxed and actually began to enjoy herself once she stopped trying to control the dance. She was relieved that he didn’t try to talk to her. She had enough of people trying to talk to her all the time. And none of her companions could talk to her while she was dancing. Perfect.

Zevran and Elissa separated, the Warden to talk to Wynne and Sanga, Zevran to cut in on Alistair and dance with Starr. “Alistair, Wynne would like to dance and we both know she won’t accept any request of mine.” He smoothly insinuated himself between the two and whirled away with Starr in his arms. He looked up into her eyes; she was smiling at him sleepily. He rather enjoyed the way they fit together, he could easily reach up to kiss those luscious lips or kiss the top of her magnificent bosom. He smiled wickedly at the thought but relaxed his hold on her. “So, you seem different this evening my beautiful cousin. Your afternoon with Sanga seems to have agreed with you.”

“It was wonderful. I think we talked for hours. I’m glad we got to spend time here, Zevran.”

“My dear cousin, I’m happy you’re happy.” He looked at her seriously for a moment, “Starrelena, if you wish to talk about anything, I am here for you. I want you to know that.”

She searched his face and understood. “I, I know that Zevran. Thank you,” she leaned her forehead against his and they continued dancing in silent kinship. The closeness of that moment was a memory Zevran treasured for many years.

When Leliana finally stopped playing, the party broke up. Only Starr, Alistair, and Zevran remained behind. Starr was sleepy and feeling the effects of the wine. She and Sanga said goodnight, leaving the men together. After a few moments of desultory conversation, Oskar and Zevran looked at each other and nodded. It was time. Oskar spoke, “Alistair, come, we talk as men. We go where we won’t disturb our ladies.” Alistair hesitated, but finally agreed. If he had only known it, his thinking paralleled Zevran’s from earlier in the day. He wanted to know who hurt his Starr.

They relaxed in what Alistair thought was Oskar’s private lounge. The big man poured brandy for all of them and brought out cigars. Alistair accepted the brandy. After they made themselves comfortable, Alistair looked directly at the Oskar and asked him the question that had been bothering him for days, “Who hurt Starr?”

“I tell you same thing I tell elf. We have susspicions, not facts. Not even rumors. If I knew, I would tell. If I knew, I would crush.” Looking at the fire in Oskar’s eyes, Alistair believed him. He was disappointed not to get more information, but he would find out some other way. Oskar let his thoughts settle, and then looked at the young man. He felt better about Alistair, any man who wanted to be worthy of his little Starr should want to know who hurt her. He liked what he had seen of him that evening. His impression of Alistair was of an honorable man who cared for her and who wanted her happiness. He also knew inexperience when he saw it. What he had observed over the course of the evening only confirmed what Zevran had told him earlier. “So, Alistair, iss true you are virgin and know nothing of women?”

Alistair choked on his brandy and began coughing and turning red. When he could breathe again, he turned to glare at Zevran who had disappeared. Turning back to Oskar, he shifted his glare to the older man and with as much dignity as he could muster he responded, “I fail to see how much experience I may or may not have with women is any of your business. I appreciate that you care for Starr, and because she cares for you I will only say this: I love her and want her to be happy.”

Oskar laughed, his booming voice filling the room. “Never mind, you learn,” as Alistair opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak and resembling a fish Oskar continued, “Iss important for man to know how to pleasse hiss woman. Little things many men do not think about, but women notice. But now, elf come back with ladies, we get treated well.”

Alistair was suspicious, but slowly relaxed as he noticed that the six women gathered around the men and took their hands. He watched the two women paired with him looking at his hands in dismay. One of them looked at him reproachfully, “How many women have you hurt with these raggedy nails? Do you have any idea how much a torn nail can hurt sensitive skin?” She held up his hand and pointed to the nail in question.

“It’s, um, it’s never been an issue, I mean, umm . . .” Alistair’s voice trailed off into an indistinct mumble.

The two women on either side of him looked at each other, then back at the shy templar with knowing expressions. “I see,” said the woman who spoke before. “I’m Alice, Sarah and I will get your nails in shape. Pay attention so you can take care of them yourself. Trust me when I say your lover will appreciate not getting stabbed with these jagged spikes.” With a huff, she bent over his hand and began. “With these calluses, I guess you do a lot of fighting. Were you at Ostagar?” Alistair nodded and then lowered his head to watch the two women, both brunettes, clean under his fingernails. He was actually a little disgusted by all the dirt they pushed out and resolved to take care of them in the future. Sarah and Alice chatted with him as they worked on his hands. They explained what they were doing and what he could do to maintain the neat appearance they finally achieved.

Alistair examined his hands, admiring how neat his nails were yet still looking manly. He started when Alice and Sarah began pulling off his boots, “Hey, what are you doing?” He felt a little foolish when Sarah, the one with long hair loosely tied back, told him they couldn’t do his toenails with his boots on. Alice got up and brought back a bowl of water and some cloths. As they bathed and rubbed his feet, he sat back in his chair and enjoyed the treatment. When his eyes closed, Oskar, Zevran and the other women quietly left, locking the door behind them. Alistair didn’t open his eyes again until he felt a stab in his leg, when he looked down both women were naked and Sarah was rubbing his toenails against his other leg. “You, you’re naked!” he sputtered, blushing when the two women laughed at the obvious. “L-l-look, you’re both p-pret-t-ty, b-but I’m n-not, that is -” he really couldn’t speak any more he was so embarrassed. He wanted to jump up and leave, but they were holding his feet, against their _naked_ bodies. He could feel himself stirring at the contact.

Amused, Alice finally took mercy on him, “Relax, sugar. Oskar told us you were very inexperienced, that your friend wanted you to learn something about women before you took the plunge, so to speak. We are here to educate you, not do anything you don’t want us to.” Calmly, she and Sarah continued with rubbing and massaging his feet while he tried to think. “We just demonstrated why it’s important to keep your nails clean and trim. Just imagine that nail against a woman’s tender flesh. The number of times I’ve been with a client, only to be stabbed by toenails . . . well it certainly doesn’t help the mood, does it?” She smiled at him cheekily. He weakly shook his head and sat back. “We’ve done this for others before you. We’ll trim your toenails now, and you can think about what we offer. If you want us to stay, we will. Anything that happens here stays here between us. Any questions you ask don’t go any further. Later, sex is an option.”

His hands gripped the arms of his chair as his thoughts whirred. _“Somehow, I am going to get Zevran, death isn’t good enough.”_ Sarah and Alice kept working on his feet, sometimes reaching across and touching each other. _“Oh Maker, is this really a good idea?”_ Certainly, his manhood seemed to be reacting favorably to the presence of all those naked breasts. _“I don’t have to do anything; they can’t force me to do anything I don’t want.”_ His thoughts kept traveling from one barely coherent thought to the next. Ultimately, desperate curiosity influenced his decision. His face was redder than any beet, “Umm, I g-guess I c-could learn something. I admit my life has b-been pretty sheltered until recently.”

“She’s a lucky girl; I can tell this isn’t easy for you.” Sarah rubbed his toenails against his leg again, “Can you feel the difference? It’s not just good grooming that will actually keep your feet healthier for you, but it is a small courtesy  to whoever your partner is.” The women began rubbing his feet again, “Foot rubs can be relaxing or,” and she pressed the bottom of his foot in such a way that he felt the rush of excitement travel at lightning speed straight to his groin, “it can be a very sensual and sexual experience.” Alistair shifted, trying to hide the fact that his manhood was at full alert.

This time Alice took charge. “Alistair,” she said as she put one hand on the top of each thigh and looked him in the eyes. “We are professionals, your body is reacting perfectly normally, and there is nothing for you to be ashamed of. Just relax; Sarah was just making a point. Any massage, be it a foot rub, back rub, neck rub, whatever, can be foreplay and be the beginning of a romantic evening. The power is in the hands of the one giving the massage. If you want us to teach you some basics, so you don’t apply pressure incorrectly, we can do that.” They finished with a relaxing foot massage and then stood in front of him. Taking him by the hand, they took him to the next room and where they climbed into the waiting bed.

“One reason Oskar chose us, is that Alice and I are partners, and we both enjoy an audience. This way you can see how a woman responds when she is  . . . enjoying the actions of her lover. Or a man.” Sarah waited as comprehension dawned on Alistair’s face. She looked at Alice who nodded her head before continuing, “If you want to join in at any time, we’re agreeable. You can still ask questions. This is the part of the education we like best, so please relax and get comfortable.” Alistair moved so he could lean back against the wall, putting some distance between him and the ladies.

Alice leaned in and twined her fingers in Sarah’s hair before kissing her lips. Alistair watched as Sarah’s mouth opened and their tongues danced together. He noticed the pulse in Sarah’s neck quicken, and felt his own quicken in response. Their hands traveled to the other’s breasts, fondling and caressing nipples. When Sarah pushed Alice back down on the bed and replaced her hands with her lips, he heard Alice’s breath hitch, her visible nipple become erect and beg for attention. Attention he was tempted to give it. He remembered with some relief that Starr had reacted to his attentions in a similar fashion, and a worry he wasn’t even aware of disappeared.

Alice’s flesh quivered as Sarah moved down, kissing and licking, nipping here and there. Alistair was getting harder and harder. When she got to the juncture of Alice’s thighs, she stopped and Alice spread her legs apart in invitation and demonstration. “Alistair,” Sarah spoke in a voice husky with desire, “look here.”  She spread the folds of flesh open to view. “Alice’s entrance is here,” and she slid her finger slowly in and out. “See the moisture?” Alistair was breathing hard as he nodded. He couldn’t have looked away if darkspawn crashed in. “If your partner is a woman, you want her to be moist. It means she’s feeling desire and is ready or getting ready for you. Some women are slower to be ready than others. That’s normal.” She moved her hands forward, “See this? We call this a woman’s love nub. For many women this is a very sexually sensitive area. Just be careful not to be too rough.” Alistair watched, fascinated as Sarah fondled the ‘love nub’ before bending her head down to lick and suck on it. Alice’s hips started bucking, getting wilder. Her legs wrapped around Sarah. Alistair pictured Starr wrapping her legs around him and whimpered.

Hearing him, Alice paused and then moving quickly she flipped Sarah over, so her butt was up in the air. She held Sarah’s head down while her rear was tensing and quivering in anticipation. Her voice hoarse, Alice asked Alistair to get the bottle of oil and some cloths out of the stand next to the bed. She opened the oil and poured a little into her hand then gave the bottle back to Alistair. She slicked her fingers and then began lubricating Sarah’s rear passage. “If you’re with a man, whichever of you is receiving will need to be prepared. Also, as a change of pace some people like to explore the back entrance, so to speak. That’s up to the two of you. However, it will not have the natural lubrication of the more traditional entryway.” She slowly slid one finger into Sarah, and held it there. Sarah whimpered for more. “One last thing, Alistair, you’re about ready to burst. Pour yourself a little oil, and then take yourself in hand, if you wish. Here or back in the other room if you want privacy. The cloths are so we can clean ourselves up when we’re done.” Alice then turned all her attention back to Sarah.

Alistair didn’t think he would make it into the next room. He moved back, pulled off his shirt for comfort, and pulled his britches down enough for access. Maker it felt good not to be confined! He quickly poured a little of the oil into his hands and wrapped them around his shaft, spreading the oil. He faltered as self-consciousness almost took over, but the moans and cries from Alice and Sarah quickly got him going again and he closed his eyes. Without realizing it, he kept in time with the rhythm they maintained, imagining that it was Starr gripping him, that it was her moistness easing the passage as he moved in and out. In his mind, she was moaning and urging him to hurry. Finally, he came, streams pouring out of him as days of pent up desire found release. Sarah and Alice were momentarily awed, and then grabbed cloths in an effort to keep it from getting all over them, Alistair, and everywhere else. Finally spent, he whispered, “Maker, I needed that.”

The girls started giggling; realizing what he said, Alistair felt himself blushing, and then chuckling. Soon they were all laughing helplessly for no particular reason. Finally, they calmed down. As they were cleaning up, Alistair reflected that Starr used to clean up rooms like this and felt a little uncomfortable. He was definitely more relaxed when they moved back to the other room.

“So, any questions? Do you, want anything? Or anyone?” Sarah asked him, handing him some more brandy before getting some for Alice and herself. One woman curled up on either side of him, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable, as he normally would. He frowned into his brandy, slowly swirling it. They were women, and knew a lot. Maybe they had answers Zevran didn’t. “Alistair, is something wrong?” Sarah asked him tentatively.

“What? No, I mean yes. Hmmm.” Alistair swallowed some brandy and concentrated on breathing so he could calm himself and be coherent. “First, thank you. I guess you already know that tonight was the closest I’ve been to, to having sex with a woman,” he would have been surprised to know they found his blush just then endearing. To himself he added, _“Except maybe for that morning with Starr.”_  He looked at each of them in turn, “You’ve been very kind. And I don’t want to be clumsy or accidentally hurtful.”

“But maybe on purpose?” purred Alice. At Alistair’s completely blank look she laughed. “Alistair, you should know that sometimes a little pain can spice things up. In fact, for some it’s necessary either on the giving or the receiving end.” She and Sarah snickered as his eyes got wide and his mouth dropped open. “But that’s something you need to find out on your own. Maybe you’d like to be spanked?” Alistair got redder and redder as he tried to picture spanking Starr or vice versa. He decided he wasn’t ready to even think about it.

“S-so s-s-some p-people really l-like to b-be hurt?” Alistair was beyond mortified when his voice actually squeaked on the word ‘hurt.’

The women shrugged in acknowledgement. “That’s not really our thing, except, like Alice said, occasionally for a change of pace. If you decide that that’s your big turn on, we can put you in touch with some specialists. They can help you with setting rules so that it remains sexual and neither you nor your partner gets badly hurt. Sanga won’t stand for somebody being deliberately cruel and hurtful beyond what was agreed to.”

“Yeah, she won’t let Vaughan Kendells through the doors. Not after what he did to one of the elven whores a few years ago.”

Narrowing his eyes, Alistair asked, “Who is Vaughan Kendells? What did he do?”

Sarah’s voice was bitter, “He’s a _noble_ with a preference for elves and causing pain. He’s son to the Arl of Denerim and practically untouchable unless his father decides differently. He nearly killed the poor girl! She’ll never work as a whore again.”

“Sanga is a good woman to work for. She didn’t boot her to the street as some others would. She let her stay without charging her a copper, and then found other work for her. I hear, though, that Vaughan merely resorted to taking women from the Alienage. If they survive, they get passed to his guards. After that, if they still live they get dumped near the Alienage gates. I think he even took two women on their wedding day, the dirty bastard!” Alice was shaking with anger.

_“Hmmm, could this be the man who took Starr?”_ Alistair mused, outraged. “Doesn’t anybody do anything? He shouldn’t be allowed to treat people like that.”

“Don’t be naïve, Alistair. The Arl of Denerim’s son? Unless the king himself is willing to step in and tangle with Arl Urien and any of his cohorts, the guard won’t do anything against him. And as long as he sticks to elves or the occasional human of low standing who won’t be missed, the chances of the king even hearing about it are slim to none,” Sarah brooded over the injustice. “Well, nothing we can do about it. Oskar makes sure none of us go out alone, so we’re pretty safe.” Deciding to change the topic she smiled at Alistair, “Ready for a back rub? I think we could all relax.”

Alistair’s education ended with massages, learning to give as well as receive. When they finally left the room and found Oskar and Zevran, the women left. But not before Alice kissed him on the cheek, saying, “You know, Alistair, if you ever decide to change professions talk to Oskar. You’ve got a knack.” The two women went off arms entwined.

Oskar looked at the blushing templar in amusement then showed him and Zevran where they would sleep. As they were getting ready, Zevran smirked at Alistair, “So, did you have a _good_ time, Alistair my friend. Did you learn anything useful?”

Alistair contemplated Zevran, “Yes. I wonder how you would look bald.” He turned over and went to sleep; leaving Zevran looking at him suspiciously as he nervously stroked his blond locks. It was a while before he was able to fall asleep. He resolved to sleep extra lightly until Alistair decided to forgive him.


	26. Elissa

They were in Denerim for three days. Sten complained about the unnecessary tasks they were performing and that they had nothing to do with fighting the Blight. Elissa began to wonder if complaining was a part of his precious Qun. However, he never managed to complain about the food. She supposed she should be thankful there was at least _something_ he didn’t feel was below standard. She was just happy they had enough coin to finish getting supplies with a modest amount left over. For once, she was grateful her parents had made sure she and Fergus knew how to run a household and understand a budget. The situation may be different now, but the principles were the same. Finally, those dull afternoons paid off. If they could see her now they would probably be smiling at her with ‘I-told-you-so expressions.’ She actually found that thought comforting.

She and Leliana went with Starr to pick up her armor from Master Wade. The man was a genius; she had had her doubts about what he could do, but no more. The original skirt was now over a short pant with a higher waist and a weighted, tapered fringe ending a couple of inches above the knee. You couldn’t see the pants, only the fringe from underneath the original. Each fringe was wider at the bottom than the top in order to reduce the amount of extra weight, but heavy enough at the bottom to not fly all over the place. He added a similar band of shorter fringe to the top, stopping short of her belly button. Starr could easily adjust the new inserts at the side as needed and a decorative edging at the top of the breastplate made the top both more modest and more comfortable. “ _Leliana was so disappointed she couldn’t get a similar set. I wonder if Starr realizes just how flirty her new armor is, with waist and leg peeking through the movement of the fringe. Alistair and Zevran certainly like it, at least they aren’t stepping on their tongues at the sight of her. What is up between those two? Sometimes they seem to be conferring about something, other times Zevran keeps his distance and constantly checks his hair. As long as whatever it is doesn’t interfere with our mission, I’m just going to let them work it out.”_

Shaking her head, she continued walking along. As well treated as they had been by Sanga and Oskar, it was good to be back out on the road. She understood the necessity of making coin when they could, but it chafed when the darkspawn threat was so large. She could agree with Sten about that, just not his incessant harping on the subject. She looked around as Starr joined her. Starr smiled happily, “It feels good to have my favorite armor back. The other was just too confining, or at least felt that way. I can move and breathe so much easier in this.”

Elissa looked at her thoughtfully, “Maybe you can answer a question for me, why is Dalish armor, especially the women’s armor, so skimpy? Doesn’t it defeat the purpose to have your middle exposed like that?”

“I never thought about it before, they’ve been making their armor like this for ages.” Starr was silent as she thought about Elissa’s question, “Part of the reason might be because they don’t want to lose more of their heritage. Without a good enough reason, why change it? Do I find it more comfortable because I’m used to it? Maybe. I do know I can move more easily, I can be more flexible. Although, if other armor was made specifically for me, then maybe it would be different. In our clan all the hunters were very dexterous, but as a rule the women more so than the men. Frequently, the women could get past certain narrow points silently better than the men because of their ability to twist and shift their waist and hips. Skin may scratch but doesn’t snag as easily as leather,” Starr proceeded to demonstrate navigating a tricky passage.

Elissa snickered, “Alistair would probably do himself some serious harm if he attempted that. You may have a point. All the Dalish I’ve ever known about travel in and try to work with the forests. I can’t help thinking, though, that some man designed the armor so he could enjoy the view and not just to save on materials.”

At first, Starr seemed insulted, but she relaxed. “Well, let’s not share that theory when we find them. They would think you were being rude and denigrating their heritage. Besides, I like feeling the breeze against my skin.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you of that when we’re in the Frostback Mountains,” replied Elissa drily. “It was very nice of Sanga and Oskar to treat us as they did. I like them. You know, the Pearl is classier? more comfortable? than I would have expected a brothel to be. The way Fergus talked about one near Highever, well, I was expecting something seedy and even grimy. How did you come to work there?”

“Do you remember me telling you my parents were killed by bandits?” Elissa nodded and Starr continued, “It was not far outside Denerim. We moved here a couple of years after they took Stair to the Chantry. They thought we would have better opportunities here. They partnered with a dwarven merchant named Graeduc. The plan was that Father could build up his carpentry business and Mom could get more clients who needed a good seamstress while they helped Graeduc expand his business. Cross referrals? I’m not sure, but I guess it was working. They were making an important trip, Mom and Nana-lin went with them. I stayed with Mistress Graeduc, helping her with their children and at the stall. It was a good arrangement. I was able to keep up with my lessons and Mistress Graeduc didn’t need to hire a helper. But it was on that trip that bandits attacked and killed all of them.” Starr stopped to take a deep breath. Alistair, Zevran and Leliana had all moved within earshot.

“The guards who told us said they probably wouldn’t have been killed if my father hadn’t tried to prevent the bandits from taking the elf, meaning Nana-lin. After that, Mistress Graeduc couldn’t look at me without seeing the body of her dead husband. She gave me money for what I couldn’t carry, but I had to find another place to live and a way to earn my keep.”

Elissa interrupted her, “But you were a child! It wasn’t your fault. Those guards never should have said anything.” Starr shrugged. “Is that when you went to the Pearl?”

“That was later; then I went to my friend Vionna. She lived in the Alienage. Her family agreed to let me stay while I found something else. She had five younger brothers and sisters, so sometimes I would help with them. Hahren Valendrian, their elder or leader, lived alone. He said if I cleaned his place, I could keep what property I had at his house. Nobody would bother it there. At first, I thought he meant Vionna’s younger brothers and sisters, but what he meant was some elves would consider human belongings fair game. I found some odd jobs sweeping stores and taverns; I turned most of that money over to Vionna’s parents for taking me in. It wasn’t enough, but it was something. Eventually I found myself on the docks near the Pearl and talked to Sanga. She didn’t want to hire me at first because I was too young, but she eventually changed her mind.” Starr spread out her hands, as if to say ‘there you have it.’

“Well, you certainly have led an interesting life. You may be the only human in all of Thedas who has lived with humans and elves, in an Alienage and with the Dalish. And you’re only, how old?” Elissa asked.

“Twenty,” Alistair interjected. “Your birthday is coming up soon, if I remember correctly.”

“You know,” Starr began thoughtfully, “I’ve only celebrated a birthday once since I left Denerim. That was when I ‘became an adult’ with the Dalish. Master Nerian gave me my armor then. I was sixteen and had successfully completed a hunt and brought back the pelt of a large bear. I gave it to Keeper Aranella; I was so proud of my accomplishment and grateful to the clan. I think she was proud of me too, though it was hard to tell. I think Keepers try not to show favoritism, and I was still a shem to many. I remember Marcail was so happy he was practically bursting at the seams. Funny, not one person in the clan ever thought of him as a shem.”

“Mother stopped celebrating birthdays when she was thirty-five. She said that was old enough to be mature and appreciate what life and experience offered, but still be young enough to enjoy herself and be able to do anything she wanted.” Elissa laughed, “Father started celebrating her ‘special’ day instead. One year he pretended to forget and she was cross the entire day, until that evening when the guests started to come. He even arranged for musicians and dancing.”

Starr laughed with her and fingered a locket she was wearing. “I don’t remember if I even knew how old my parents were. They just ‘were’ do you know what I mean?”

Elissa nodded, “I think I was thirteen before I even thought about it. Mother’s face when I asked her how old she was, and in front of guests, I’ll never forget it. I didn’t get supper that night. Father came to me later with a snack and explained that it was rude to ask adults how old they were, _especially_ in front of other people. I asked him why and all he said was I would understand when I was older, for now just remember what he said.” Starr laughed, and Elissa finally asked her about the locket she was wearing. “I don’t recall seeing that before, I think I would have remembered such an unusual locket. It’s tiered, with a pendant on each tier. Have you always had it?”

“Yes and no,” Starr answered. She held the locket on the top tier, “my father had this made when I was born.” She opened it up, “These are my parents. Eventually the chain became too small for me to wear, but I kept it. Sanga and Oskar found it and incorporated it with this locket and chain. See, it has pictures of them. The third tier I can leave as a pendant or add another locket. They’ve been holding it for me and gave it to me before we left Denerim.”

“Ooooh, how charming,” Leliana cooed, she was the only one still with them. “You can carry a reminder of both your families with you at all times.”

“It’s beautiful,” agreed Elissa. “They were smart to make it so sturdy, but do you think it wise to wear it while we travel like this?”

“There are no darkspawn nearby and no other dangers right now. Tomorrow is soon enough to pack it away for safety. Right now, I just feel better wearing it.”

Elissa looked at her, astounded, “How do you know there are no darkspawn? You’re not a warden.”

Starr was surprised, “Of course I know. I’ve been traveling with you and Stair long enough to know when we’re getting close to darkspawn. You both change. It’s like your bodies are humming silently, then you announce that they’re around. Surely the others have noticed.”

Elissa and Leliana shook their heads, Elissa answered. “No. _I_ wasn’t even aware of it. At least now I know why you and Fen are ready for battle before we even say anything. Let’s see if you can announce them before either Alistair or I do. We won’t tell Alistair just yet, that way he won’t unconsciously be waiting for you to say something. I’m beginning to think you were destined to lead an interesting life.”

Wryly, Starr replied, “Let’s hope I have some less interesting times ahead. I could use the rest.” Laughing, the women continued onwards.


	27. Cave-in

On the way to Lake Calenhad, they had to detour south in order to avoid part of Loghain’s army. Starr was the first to announce “Darkspawn!” Alistair turned around and looked at her in disbelief, and then he felt it. Darkspawn. It was a small group, quickly dispatched. Starr’s warning enabled them to get rid of them with arrows and spells, the encounter barely qualified as a fight.

Alistair fell into step beside Starr. He enjoyed walking with her at any time, but if she could sense darkspawn without going through a Joining . . . the implications were staggering. “So, you can sense darkspawn? You never mentioned that.”

“No, I can’t, at least not in the way you mean.” Starr answered. For some reason she was embarrassed to tell Alistair how she knew about them.

“No?! But how?”

Elissa decided it was time to give Starr a push and answered for her. “She senses you, Alistair. She’s watched you closely enough to know when you sense them even before you do,” she smiled innocently when Starr shot her a dirty look and dropped farther back to walk with Zevran and Leliana.

Alistair raised an eyebrow and looked Starr, “Really?” he practically purred.

She refused to look at him or anybody else, “That’s not exactly how I would describe it,” Starr reluctantly admitted.

Alistair was filled with smug male pride. Looking at Starr with simmering heat, he smiled. “Well, love, you can watch me as closely as you like.” He laughed at her scowl and moved ahead. She trudged along, trying not to watch him, and thought of apples.

Zevran meanwhile looked at Elissa. “My dear Warden, you are up to something. Usually people are saying that to me.”

“I think our fearless leader is playing matchmaker. Starr noticed a change over both of them, not just Alistair, when darkspawn were about.”

“Oh ho, and you thought to give her a push in our handsome templar’s direction, did you? Wily woman,” Zevran chuckled. “Now you just need to push yourself in my direction.”

Elissa looked at them with wide eyes, “I don’t know what you mean. I just explained to Alistair how she knew.” However, the twinkle in her eye and smirk of her lips gave her away. Chuckling, they continued on.

Soon they were walking through some low hills. At almost the same time, the Wardens and Starr yelled “Darkspawn!” This time they had a battle, for there must have been 80-100 darkspawn, including ogres and emissaries. Sten had learned some templar skills from Alistair and the two of them kept busy shutting down the emissaries while protecting the mages. Wynne and Morrigan downed vial after vial of lyrium as they cast spell after spell. Morrigan concentrated on area of effects with lightning and fire while Wynne concentrated on the darkspawn closer to hand. Arrows, blades and fangs flew as the rest of them battled, darting wherever they could be most effective. Finally, there were only about a dozen darkspawn left. Alistair and Morrigan had gotten separated from the others and were being attacked by two ogres. Alistair couldn’t see the emissary that cast a paralysis spell on him and left him at the mercy of the big beasts.

Starr saw. Screaming, “Stair!” she quickly finished off the hurlock in front of her and ran. She grabbed a darkspawn shield on the way and stood between Alistair and the ogres, bracing herself to protect them. Morrigan was able to knock out one of them, but the other slammed down with all his weight. The ground opened and swallowed them, both ogres following them into the pit. Horrified, the others could only continue fighting. Zevran was in a frenzy, the thought of Starr slowly suffocating underground drove him to fight as he never had before. When the last creature was done with, he desperately started digging only to be grabbed by Sten.

“Zevran, stop,” Elissa commanded. When he snarled at her, she was glad Sten had hold of him; she had never seen that wild look in his eyes before. She shivered. “We need to examine this carefully, the last thing we need to do is cause more to fall because we panicked.” Zevran slowly calmed himself, breathing slowly in order to clear his mind. Sten let him go. “Obviously this area has sinkholes or overgrown caves or mineshafts, or something. That could be in our favor.” Elissa concentrated a moment, and then smiled, “I think I can sense Alistair. Wynne, you’re a healer, can you sense anything?”

“I’ve never done this before, but I’ll try,” the older woman replied. Drinking another vial of lyrium to replenish herself, she slowly relaxed her mind and body. Reaching out with the help of the spirit joined to her, she searched through the rocks and rubble in front of her, past the bodies of the ogres and found them. “Thank the Maker!  They’re hurt, but alive. I can’t tell how seriously, but it doesn’t seem life-threatening, at least for now.”

“We should all give thanks to the Maker for sparing our friends, and ask him to give us clarity so we can decide how best to proceed.” Leliana ignored Morrigan’s sneer. “We should also step back until we have a plan, we don’t want to fall in ourselves, this would not help them.” They all did as she suggested, then began determining how to best help their fallen comrades. It was going to be a long night of digging.

Alistair watched in horror as Starr stood between him and that ogre’s blow, “NO-O-O-O!” he screamed silently; then he felt pain and them falling through the ground. Then nothing. Dirt and debris were still falling when he started to become conscious again, _“Why can’t those paralysis spells include pain removal, ow,”_ was his immediate thought, then as he remembered, _“Starr! Where is she?”_ Her coughing was the sweetest sound in the world to him at that moment.

Starr opened her eyes and saw blackness. She could feel the grit and dust still hanging in the air. _“Wha? What happened? Stair!”_ She reached out and felt him, ignoring her own pain she pulled herself closer to him. Desperately she felt for some sign of life and cursed the fact that she couldn’t tell anything through the heavy armor he was wearing. When she reached his head, she carefully removed his helmet and lightly ran her fingers over his face. “ _Thank the Maker and Creators!”_ she thought when she felt his breath on her hands. She checked the back of his head for injuries, but nothing seemed severe. She did have the odd thought that this would mess up his hair, but shook her head to clear her mind and concentrate on the moment. She dimly became aware that the ogre wasn’t dead yet, and reached for a weapon. Taking a minute to try and figure out what their exact situation was and where they were, she stood up slowly and banged her head. Feeling the ceiling, she realized it was rock. She explored it a little more and concluded that they were in some sort of cave, the entrance covered up at some point. It was obvious to her that nothing had used it in a very long time. And, of course, the ogre was now blocking the entrance.

“Stair, we’ve fallen into a cave, the ogre is still alive and between us and the outside. I’m going to pull you farther back, and then I’m going to check on the ogre.” Alistair could only seethe in frustration at not being able to move or talk. Starr was back in moments. “We’re in luck; it seems to have gotten stuck on a ledge above the entrance. Its feet are down, so I sliced up what I could. It seemed weak, so if the others can’t kill it from above maybe it will bleed out from below. We should move back a little more, I don’t want to be in the way of any rock fall because of it thrashing about. Can you move yet?” She helped him move farther back from the ogre and the debris.

The spell slowly lessened its grip, by the time Starr finished talking, Alistair was able to move and sit up. The first thing he did was grab her and shake her, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” Then he started raining kisses all over her face and hugging her. He pulled off his gauntlets and, his hands in her hair, he brought her face to his and found her lips. He kissed her deeply, forcing her lips to open and conquered her mouth with his tongue. Stunned at first by the sudden passion, Starr quickly responded in kind. As their tongues battled, she shifted so she was sitting in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to get as close as possible. Desperation and relief at being alive mixed with the long simmering passion between them, creating a potent brew. Alistair skimmed his hands down her back and sides, grabbing hold when he reached her bottom. His armor frustrated him, but Starr was ahead of him. She was already trying to loosen his breastplate with trembling fingers, whimpering in frustration. He reached up, and together they were able to remove it, and were immediately pressing into each other with only leather and thin cloth between them. Starr would have climbed into his skin if she could. Alistair pulled on her chestpiece until her breasts were free. While one hand remained gripped on her rear, pulling her close, the other reached up to cup one heavy, magnificent breast. For a moment, he just held it, savoring then he squeezed, and fondled, and explored. Starr invited him to take more as she freed her arms and wrapped them around him. She arched into his touch, wanting something more, she didn’t know what. Slowing, he kissed her jaw line up to her ears. She shivered when he nibbled her lobe. “I love you, Starr, I don’t know what I would do without you,” he whispered. He felt her mentally withdraw, her body still reaching for his, but it wasn’t the same. “What’s wrong?” he asked, afraid he knew the answer.

Starr breathed deeply, and then disentangled herself from him. She couldn’t think while she was in his arms. “Stair, don’t,” her voice was strained as she put her armor in place and moved to put some distance between them. She felt so cold and alone, then. “You’re my best friend, of course I love you. And, you’re the first person to make me feel like this since, well, ever, really. But, I don’t know if I love you that way. I know I want to be with you, I want you to be the one I, um, uh, want to be, be close to, intimate with. I know I don’t want to lose your friendship, but I don’t know if I can give you any more than that. Just wanting to be with somebody like this is so new to me.” She felt defeated.

Roaring pain filled Alistair’s head. Moments before he had cursed the darkness because he couldn’t see her; now he was grateful that she couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill. He waited until he could think. He knew he had to be very careful; she was very fragile just then. He felt that way himself, actually. “First, I’m a man of my word. That has been the only thing of mine I’ve ever really had to offer and my word is important to me. I said I would always be your friend and I meant that. You would have to do more than not return my feelings in order to lose my friendship.” That was the easy bit. “I think you are an incredibly beautiful, strong, desirable woman. I wish that were enough.” He couldn’t believe what he was going to say next, “I love you, and I want my first time to be with somebody who loves me the same way I love them. A few months ago, I might have settled for less, but not anymore. You’ve helped me see I’m worth more than that. That I have the right to fight for happiness on my terms.” He gritted his teeth. “Maybe, maybe you should think about being with Zevran, he cares about you and would help you, or maybe one of the whores at the Pearl. Maybe that would help you resolve what you’re feeling. I can understand feeling overwhelmed.” He wanted to bite his tongue off for his suggestion.

Shocked Starr exclaimed, “I couldn’t do that! I’m not in l-, I couldn’t be with somebody just because I, I, wanted t-to scratch an itch!”

Alistair caught that slip of the tongue, and felt new hope and a lessening of pain. “ _She_ does _love me. She’s just not ready to admit it. Maybe it’s time to talk about everything that happened.”_ Clearing his throat, he began, “Starr, why don’t you tell me what happened, not just the short version?”

Starr was dubious. “Why? Do you think it will help anything? I already talked to Sanga while we were in Denerim.”

“Honestly? I don’t know. But I can’t help feeling if we don’t talk, it will be like the invisible ogre in the closet, ready to jump out and trip us up.”

“Invisible ogre? That’s a scary thought.” Starr chewed her bottom lip, thinking, “Maybe you’re right. If anybody should know what happened, it should be you.”

Alistair felt for the wall behind him, and pulled her with him so they were leaning against the wall. He wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace so she could put her head on his shoulder. He remembered from her nightmares that she felt safer with his arms around her. She stiffened against him, but he didn’t let her go. “You’re not alone, Starr, remember that,” he rumbled.

She relaxed against her friend, “You’re too good to me, Stair. You deserve more, but thank you.”

“Yep, that’s me, Saint Alistair, I’m right up there with Andraste’s maidservant’s second cousin,” he quipped. He was rewarded when she snorted in amusement.

“As you know, I was working at the Pearl. From what I could gather, Cailan had been there and happened to see me. One of his party talked to Sanga later, and she told him I was not one of the whores and I was not available. He seemed to accept that, but she did warn me not to go out alone. Anywhere.” Her fingers picked at Alistair’s shirt, he didn’t think she was aware of it and he wasn’t going to interrupt her now. If she ruined his shirt, it was a small price to pay. “Vionna was coming by the next day and we were going to her family to celebrate her younger brother’s birthday. I even made a cake. Before we left, Dave, one of the bouncers, stopped us. He reminded me that I shouldn’t go out alone, so either he or Braun would call for me at Vionna’s and walk with me back to the Pearl. Nobody thought we would need somebody to walk with us in daylight.” She stirred restlessly; Alistair stroked her hair to calm her. “We were wrong. A closed wagon was on the road, and somebody grabbed us both. We fought, kicking and scratching and screaming until they knocked us unconscious, and when we came to we were in a locked room. The blond lord and his friends were looking at us. Considering, scrutinizing. Some guards were in the room, too. He motioned for the guards to hold Vionna, and then he spoke to me. ‘Take off your clothes, bitch, so I can get a proper look.’ I backed away, and he hit Vionna. ‘If you care about your knife-eared friend, you’ll do what I say, or she gets worse.’ He sounded almost _bored_. Vionna and I looked at each other, we were both crying, so I took off my clothes. I didn’t think I could feel more ashamed, until he put his hands on me. He touched my breasts, judging them. He moved his hands up and down my arms and legs as if he were examining an animal he wished to purchase. I felt so, so **_dirty_**.” She sobbed a little and burrowed into Alistair’s arms, seeking comfort against the past.

After a few minutes, she continued, “You already know they gave me to Cailan, after dressing me appropriately. I was still a virgin, the blond lord had a healer who verified that and healed any bruises from my capture.” She shuddered. Alistair kissed the top of her head. “When I got back, they threw me in a cell until the blond lord was ready for me. I shouted at the guards, asking about Vionna, but they just laughed. They left me until the next day, no food or water. The blond lord and his friends came. He told the guards to remove my clothes and bring me out. I fought, but that just meant a bunch of useless shredded rags and bruises. I can see him now, sneering down at me, demanding I service him, show him what Cailan had taught me. If he wasn’t satisfied, his friend, the one I call the ‘dark lord’ would, would rape me in the-the rear. I thought maybe if I did this, they would let me go. I was so damn naïve! I serviced him, I tried to do the best I could, but I realize now he was never going to claim to be fully satisfied. He wanted me reamed. He wanted to watch while the dark lord rear-raped me and the third man tortured my breasts. He **bit** me; they hurt me in the back, in the front. I was limp and crying with pain before they finished. Sometimes I have nightmares.” She sneered, “The blond lord called me a whore and told me I had promise. Told his guards to clean me up, put me in a cage, and bring me to his sitting room.” She pounded on Alistair’s chest, screaming, “I HATE HIM! HATE HIM HATE HIM HATE HIM!” She pounded on his chest and screamed until she broke down into tears. Alistair just held her, crying with her, comforting her as much as he could.

Finally, she quieted. She pulled herself up and away. She wrapped her arms around her legs and brooded. Alistair let her, much as he wanted to hold her, he thought she needed to do this her way. He felt helpless against all that pain; he couldn’t imagine how it felt. It was a while before she spoke up again.

“He was into humiliation. I think that and pain gave him more satisfaction than sex alone ever could. He was a demon, maybe not the Fade kind, but still a demon.” She paused, “You might as well know, I don’t know how many men did things to me. Sometimes, if he decided I had been bad, I would be thrown into a tall narrow cage so I couldn’t move much. Then the cage would be hung from a hook in the barracks. I was naked and anybody in there could swing the cage or poke their fat, grubby fingers wherever they could reach. Some of the openings were big enough for them to stick a hand in or . . . Anyway, after a few times I didn’t even feel dirty. I went away where nobody could follow. There were times when the blond lord decided a guard deserved a reward. So that guard could do anything he wanted, make me do things with my hands and mouth, the only thing he couldn’t do was put his, his thing in me the normal way. Of course, the blond lord always watched, had to make sure the guard was following the rules. Didn’t want anybody forgetting their place. If a guard was too rough, well, he had a healer with his own perversions, didn’t he? And that guard would be disciplined, as an example of what would happen to anyone taking advantage of the blond lord’s generosity.” Her voice was bitter and mocking. She was quiet, when she spoke again she sounded ill, “Excuse me Stair; I’ll be back in a minute.”

He heard her scuttling deeper into the cave, then retching. Alistair buried his head into his hands, silently crying for her, and maybe for himself. _“Andraste! No wonder she’s feeling overwhelmed. What happened before, what’s not quite happening with us now, I have to be strong. For her. She’s had to be strong alone and for herself for so long, but she needs me to be strong now.”_ He rubbed his hands over his face, and waited for her to come back. Maker, he hoped he could do this. He had to. She slowly made her way back to where she had been, he reached for her and pulled her back into his arms and hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry, baby, so very, very sorry.” He kept hugging her, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head until she relaxed into him.

“You didn’t do anything, you have nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, that I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry that anybody had to suffer what you suffered. Do you know who they are?” he asked.

“I don’t think I ever heard their names. Umm, you did help, in a way. I told you how I sometimes went away? I went back to Redcliffe, when we were children and stealing cookies. Or cheese. Sometimes I pretended you came in and destroyed them all. Riding a dragon and breathing fire down on them.”

“Was it white, symbol of ultimate goodness?”

“Of course! No other kind for my knight.” He could hear the smile in her voice, before she became somber again. “I don’t see how you can bear to touch me, knowing what you know.”

Alistair was outraged, and felt like shaking some sense into her, but he refrained. “What sort of person do you think I am? Things were done to you, forced on you. Did you want those bastards buggering you?” She shook her head. “Did you want to be given to Cailan like a shiny new toy?” He waited until she shook her head again. “You survived a horrible experience, and I know there’s more than what you’ve told me so far. None of it is your fault. I am not some idiot who is going to blame the victim for being victimized. You are you, what you choose to be, not what was done to you.” He huffed and sniffed indignantly.

He barely heard her mutter, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Oh?”

Starr shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t leave the comfort of his embrace. Alistair felt he had achieved a small victory. “A few months after leaving the Dalish, I met somebody. He seemed kind, he was pleasant, and he treated me like a lady.” She sighed. “I thought it was the right thing to tell him something. I only told him that I had been attacked and abused, nothing else. He thanked me for telling him, that it must have been hard for me. The next day he told me he couldn’t be with ‘damaged goods,’ that he could only consider being seen with somebody who had an unblemished reputation. Our encounters after that were civil, but cool.”

“He was Maferath’s ass!” Alistair blasted. Any jealousy he felt at the beginning of her tale completely washed away in outrage on her behalf. “You’re well rid of him, he didn’t deserve you.” He tightened his arms possessively around her.

“Well, hmmm. Maybe you’re right.” Starr pondered over what Alistair had said. It felt so good to be in his arms, she felt so safe and cared for. She might as well finish.  “What I didn’t understand was why he kept me in that dungeon for so long. Or why he would allow anything except for that one thing.” She shook her head. “I overheard some guards, it sounded like he wanted me to be pregnant and have a baby Theirin. That didn’t make sense. Usually when I was with them, I tried to go away, but I decided I better pay attention the next time. What scared me most is that I knew I was probably pregnant. One night he had a new toy to try out, and sent for me. I found out they planned to use my child against Cailan and his father. If I behaved and played the whore I could live and be near my son.”

_Guards tied and carried her to the lord’s sitting room. Only the dark man was with him. There was something new in the room, an odd little table, bolted to the floor. This time she was strapped under it in such a way that even if she were unconscious or asleep (as unlikely as that might be) her rear was pushed up and back, providing for ‘easy access.’ She could wiggle, but that was all. The lord put a glass on the table and motioned to the guard. The guard was easily able to get on his knees and ram into her several times without knocking over the glass. He could have done it blindfolded. Satisfied, the lord sent him away. He and the dark man poured themselves some wine, and began playing cards. They would reach down and fondle her like a prized bitch, or poke and pinch or slap, but it was all absent-minded. She felt even more humiliated than when she was in the cage. After a few hands, the lord got up and walked round the room. The dark man was talking about her and the lord’s plans for her! She was so intent on listening she didn’t notice the lord on his  knees behind her until he rammed hard into her rear. She mewled in pain, but he didn’t notice. He stopped, still inside her for a moment, and picked up his wine. As he drank with one hand, he reached under her with the other and poked his fingers into her feminine opening. He moved his fingers lazily in and out while he answered the dark man. “If she’s pregnant, we will have control over a royal bastard. If the bitch behaves, I might even let her live to wet-nurse the babe. I’ve never experienced being with a pregnant whore before, it could be novel entertainment. Cailan and Maric are both softhearted. What sort of concessions might we get out of them if the well-being of Cailan’s child is in our hands? After the child is born, we’ll have a well broken in whore who will do whatever we want in order to stay near her child. Won’t we, bitch?” He rammed himself all the way inside her and viciously pinched her._

“I knew they would never relax the guards enough for me to escape. There was too much at stake; and I certainly couldn’t let any child be at their mercy, I would rather die. I could only think of one thing, convince them I wasn’t pregnant.” Starr took a deep breath before continuing, “In one of the other cells was an old metal gauntlet. I twisted off one of the fingers and used the sharp end to cut myself down there and inside. I had to cut myself deep enough to make sure there was enough blood, then I lay down and waited for the guards to find me.” Alistair sucked in his breath; it was just as hard hearing it now as when she was poisoned. “I nearly cut too deep. I was worried about that, whether there was some permanent damage that would prevent me from being with, um, anyone. Sanga had Maggie the healer take a look and she said there was no reason I couldn’t have a normal life going forward.” _“What she actually said,”_ Starr mused, _“was that if I wanted to fuck the entire city guard sideways I could and enjoy it.”_

“That’s why you were in such a good mood that night; you must have felt incredibly relieved.” Alistair murmured, thinking.

“I, yes that was a huge relief. I felt, I dunno, whole again.” Starr was feeling tired, but resolved to continue. She really didn’t want to talk about this again. “The blond lord went crazy. He was so angry that I had messed up his plans with a miscarriage. He whipped me, then did all the things he had been ‘depriving himself of’ and called in his friends for a final party. If I had been an elf, they would have just dumped me on the streets somewhere. In his mind, nobody cared about a _knife_ - _ear_. They were afraid dumping my body might bring them unwanted attention, so they rolled me in a rug, and drove out to the forest. He was still so angry, even his friends were wary. Didn’t stop them from doing what they wanted though,” she said bitingly. “Before dumping me out, he grabbed an old hunting knife that had been lying around and carved into my back. I thought I knew pain before, but nothing like that. He said something about knowing a whore was a whore and threw me out. I remember falling, then nothing. Actually, it wasn’t too far from where we entered the forest.”

Alistair shook his head, “What surprises me is that after everything that happened, you can stand to let somebody else touch you, that you are even willing to try. You are the strongest and most amazing woman I have ever met.” They were silent, lost in their own thoughts. Starr was starting to fall asleep when Alistair finally broke the silence, “Was he kind to you? Cailan?”

“Mmm? Yes, yes they were,” Starr answered sleepily.

“Good,” answered Alistair. Then her actual words registered. “They?”

Starr sat up a little, but Alistair didn’t loosen his grip. “You should know that Cailan is definitely Marcail’s father. Just as Cailan has his mother’s eyes, Marcail has Cailan’s. Cailan was kind, and gentle; he tried to make me feel pleasure even though he thought I was just a whore. During the second week, Maric came to the lodge. He sometimes felt depressed, and when depressed he sometimes drank. He always came to the lodge in those times. The night he came, Cailan told me to go to Maric’s bed and wait for him. He had some idea that his father, your father, was lonely and maybe some companionship could stop the depression from deepening. It was late when he came into bed, he was drunk and all he did when he found me was hold me. I woke up, he was caressing me and when he, he entered me he called me ‘Kat.’” She knew she was blushing furiously, she was glad Alistair couldn’t see her. She would have been upset if she knew Alistair could tell she was blushing from the heat of her face against his chest. “The next morning, unlike Cailan, Maric knew I was young, too young to be doing . . . things. I was too scared to tell them the truth, but I think they sensed something. Cailan kept apologizing; Maric asked if I needed anything. I didn’t know what to say so I asked why they had pictures of you hanging on the walls. For the rest of that week we talked about you.”

Alistair was stunned. He knew she’d been with Cailan against her will. And he was honestly glad that she had some nice or at least decent experiences before being with those animals. The fact that she had been with his _father_ was difficult for him to wrap his brain around. It should have been the same as Cailan, but it wasn’t. And they had talked about _him_. It was too much, he had to think about something else or he would go mad. Vionna, what happened to Vionna? “So, I hesitate to ask, but what about Vionna?”

He knew the answer from the tears on his shirt. He held her and she clung to him as they waited for their rescuers. Eventually they fell asleep, and that’s how the others discovered them. 


	28. Clearing the Rubble

In the two days following the cave-in, Zevran couldn’t help noticing that relations seemed strained between his cousin and her templar. Wandering over as she was preparing dinner, he helped her chop some vegetables. “So, my dear cousin, I am quite happy that you are feeling no lingering effects from dropping below ground. I will admit that I was quite worried until we found you, and that you only had minor injuries. Do not do that to me again,” he playfully put his hand on his heart, though he was completely serious.

Starr smiled at him, the first real smile he’d seen on her face since before the darkspawn attack. “I will try to avoid cave-ins in the future. Would you believe me if I said they are not particularly amusing?”

“Hmm, I have always thought as much. Good to have that confirmed.” He idly looked around, pretending to realize just now that Alistair wasn’t around, “And where is your divinely handsome warrior? Usually he would be somewhere, ready to lend a hand. Or just talking.”

She didn’t look at him as she answered, “He’s been meditating a lot since we got buried. He thinks that if he could strengthen his templar training he could avoid a repetition.” She shrugged her shoulders, “Maybe he’s right. He feels he has to try, anyway.”

“I am sure he was beyond horrified when you threw yourself between him and that ogre. Very brave, but very reckless. He cares about you too much to want to see you hurt.”

“What are friends for?” Starr continued her dinner preparations.

Zevran regarded her thoughtfully. “You know, bellissima, you were in that cave together for some time. I know that if **I** found myself alone in the dark with an attractive companion after surviving such a horrible experience we would be making love in no time. Rather life-affirming, sí?” Starr’s hand paused for a moment, but she said nothing, only her blush giving her away. _“Oh ho and now they avoid each other. What else happened?”_   Time to find out what was wrong, “Carissima, after the passion, what did you do next?”

She glared at him, “We _talked_ , Zevran. You know, that thing you do with your mouth and sound comes out?”

Zevran grinned wickedly, “Mouths can accomplish that with more than talking, my innocent young cousin. So, what did you _talk_ about?”

Narrowing her eyes, she looked at her cousin in frustration, “You’re going to pester me until I tell you, aren’t you?” He didn’t answer, just waited. “Fine, we talked about my scars, and other things.” She turned back to her cooking.

“I am glad that you finally talked about what was done to you; and I have some questions. But that is not all, is it bellissima?” Zevran was determined to find out everything he could from his cousin before he tackled Alistair.

Miserably, she finally answered him, “He told me he loved me. And I told him I didn’t. Or rather that I didn’t know if I did.”

_“Poor Alistair. He certainly picked a rocky path for his first love. No wonder he is off ‘meditating,’”_ Aloud he said, “And is that true, or something you told him because you are afraid?”

“I don’t know, Zev. How do you know when you are in love?” she looked at him, her expression equal parts hope and misery.

_“Their safety and happiness are more important than your own, you would risk death to protect them, you can’t picture life without them and you can picture life with them forty years into the future, you find yourself treasuring the smallest moments of togetherness, you look for ways to make the other person happy, . . .”_ He said none of those things. “My dear, you must remember I grew up among whores and trained to be an assassin. Romance and other finer feelings were not encouraged because they make you weak. And weakness would get you killed. I am afraid, my comely cousin, I do not have the experience to help you.”

“Huh, well no harm in asking.” She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she wasn’t going to pry. “I’ve thought about what you said, about my scars. I’ve decided to have Wynne look at them. I’ll ask her before we get to Lake Calenhad. You have a number of tattoos; do you know anything about the art?”

“Now there’s an idea. Yes, if you are interested I might be able to give you one. Think about it, and we can talk some more later. If you could provide a sketch of what you want, that would be even better. I will go check on my supplies, to see what I might need.” He sauntered off to his tent, thinking. He would wait a few minutes in his tent, maybe even sketch out some ideas for a tattoo in the fortunate event that Wynne would be able to reduce or remove them. Then he would hunt up Alistair.

Alistair was far enough away from camp to be alone but close enough that he could just faintly hear the sounds of his companions. The mood he was in, he preferred to be even farther away but that could be dangerous. He tried to meditate, to strengthen his willpower. Instead, he kept circling back to the cave-in. _“Maker, I can’t believe we were going to make love on the floor of that cave! At least until I said I loved her. ‘But I don’t know if I love you that way.’”_ The pain of her pulling away from him. The knowledge that those bastards had given her to others, that she didn’t even know how many. _“Maric could have been Marcail’s father. Maric was with her,_ my _Starr. Maric, bloody Maric.”_ He pounded his fists into the ground. He brooded some more. _“At least he recognized that she was too young. I suppose it was decent of him and Cailan to stop and to apologize. She said they talked about me. I’m going to have to ask her. But not yet, I can’t.”_

That’s how Zevran found him, sitting on the ground with his head bowed, shoulders sagging. Zevran sat down across from him and waited for the younger man to notice him. When Alistair lifted his head, Zevran sucked in his breath. The templar looked ten years older. “Alistair, my friend, what is wrong? Something has not been right since the cave-in. I thought your injuries were fairly minor, under the circumstances, am I mistaken?”

At first, Alistair wasn’t going to answer. But, Zevran was his friend; maybe talking would help him sort things out in his head. At least it would temporarily stop the circle wearing into his brain. With ragged breath, Alistair answered him. “At first I was so angry with her, that she would stand between me and an ogre. I was shaking her, and then I was kissing her. We were all over each other. I, I told her I loved her. She changed. She told me she was willing to have sex with me, but didn’t know if she could offer me more.” He fell silent again.

“And what was your response? I could understand if you and she finally consummated your passion. It has certainly been simmering for a long time. And you both nearly died, a particularly strong combination.” Zevran wanted to hear Alistair’s answer.

“I know what I want, if I can’t have her love I will just be her friend. I won’t compromise on some mish-mash in between.” Alistair was very firm on that point.

“I think, my handsome young templar, that you are perhaps stronger than I would be. I am used to taking what enjoyment I can because I don’t expect a tomorrow.” Zevran pondered as he looked at Alistair.

Alistair looked at Zevran, “I wonder. Anyway, I am pretty sure I know who hurt her. We talked about what happened. In Denerim, I learned some things from Alice and Sarah. I’m sure you remember them,” Alistair added drily. “Sanga banned a man from the Pearl because he savagely beat up one of the girls, an elven woman.” Zevran nodded for Alistair to continue, and mentally patted himself on the back for not teasing Alistair at the obvious opportunity. “Apparently he then started taking women from the Alienage. When he was done, he would pass the woman to his guards for their enjoyment. Eventually she would be dumped near the Alienage gates, assuming she survived the tender treatment she received.” His voice grew cold, hard and bitter, “The man who took Starr followed the same pattern, except he wanted a child of the Theirin bloodline to use against Maric and Cailan.” He had to stop and take a deep breath. “Zevran, she told me she doesn’t even know how many men used her.” Zevran winced, knowing how much that thought hurt both Starr and Alistair. Then he became still as stone, thinking of ways for this man to die. Alistair continued, “I think the son of a bitch is Vaughan Kendells, Arl Urien’s son.”

Nostrils flaring, Zevran was still calm when he replied. “Yes, I think so as well. Your information confirms some things I heard in Denerim. Did Starr mention any names?”

“No,” Alistair shook his head. “I asked her, but she doesn’t remember hearing any names.” Zevran had already decided that whether or not Vaughan Kendells took Starr, he was certainly guilty of similar crimes and deserved to die. He hoped there weren’t two such monsters in Denerim.

“Well, my friend, I can’t say this conversation was unexpected. I think in order to move forward you have to face her demons together. Is this why you are so troubled? Why you have moved away from my lovely cousin? Are you perhaps thinking it is wiser not to pursue a romance, that there’s no hope?” Zevran probed the young man, determined to find out what was wrong. Not just for Starr’s sake, but Alistair’s as well.

“Maker’s breath, no! I love Starr, and I am quite certain she loves me, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. I can wait a bit longer. It’s just, there’s something else. And I need to get my head around it before I talk to her again.” Alistair looked so confused and lost that Zevran was startled. He couldn’t imagine what had Alistair so bothered. He almost didn’t hear when Alistair whispered, “It’s Maric, during the time with Cailan, Maric showed up. It was only once, but he was with her before he realized she was still a child.”

Zevran’s eyes opened wide, _“Braska, this is like a bad play. On top of everything else, the father who abandoned him was with the woman he loves. No wonder he needs to ‘get his head around it’ before he talks to Starr.”_ He was very cautious when he spoke to Alistair. “Does this matter so very much? You were accepting of Cailan’s involvement, since he was innocent of any wrongdoing. Do you think . . . ?”

“By Andraste, no I don’t! No, Maric is no more guilty than Cailan. But, he’s my father and he never did anything for me. He didn’t even acknowledge me. It’s not rational, but I feel like he stole something from me. And, she said they talked about me. Why?”

“Perhaps it isn’t that he stole something from you by being with the celestial Starr, but that action reminds you of everything he stole from you as a child? You have made no secret to me of your bitterness towards him, my friend.” Zevran hoped he wasn’t making things worse. He had never even stuck his foot near such deep water.

Alistair shook his head and laughed disparagingly. “Why didn’t I think of that? When she told me, all those feelings of abandonment and hurt came back. I hated him for never asking about me, for never getting to know me, for not making sure I had a proper roof over my head instead of the bloody stables or kennels. And maybe I feel a bit betrayed, by her, for talking to him. Not exactly rational thinking, is it?”

“If the human heart were rational what would bards like lovely Leliana have to write about,” Zevran said lightly. Alistair snorted. “Seriously, my friend, you should talk to her about this. You do yourself no favors by letting it fester.”

“I know. I just need to think a bit more, get a bit more settled about it. Everything. I need to know that I can be at least reasonably calm when we talk. Somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be an easy conversation no matter what.”

Zevran slowly nodded his head, “Perhaps you are right. Just do not wait too long. On another note, she is going to talk to Wynne about her scars, and she asked me about tattoos. I find both those things hopeful; it means she is looking forward, not back.”

Alistair looked interested, “Tattoos? You mean those drawings on your body? I didn’t know you knew how to do them. Doesn’t it hurt? And involve needles?”

“Yes, a great many needles and possibly a great deal of pain. Why, are you interested in one?” The thought of tattooing the warrior intrigued Zevran.

“Yes, no, maybe,” admitted Alistair. “A small one. But why would she want one? Hasn’t she had enough pain?”

“Now there’s an interesting question. Perhaps it is symbolic?”

“You mean like closing the door on the past, controlling the past instead of letting it control her?” Alistair thought about that for a moment. “I can see that.”

Zevran laughed, “You are definitely not as stupid as Morrigan tries to pretend. While the process might be painful, it is a pain she will _choose_ to endure. That, however, is just a possibility. She may just be exploring options, not making a decision. We shall see. For now, I leave you to your thoughts.” Zevran stood and strolled off; maybe it was time to offer the Warden another massage.

Alistair watched him go, his thoughts already wandering, _“Maric, bloody Maric.”  
_


	29. “Maric, Bloody Maric”

Starr was looking up at the sky, talking to Marcail as she usually did. It was the third night since the cave-in, and Alistair decided he was as ready to talk as he would ever be. He strolled over and sat down next to her. He looked up at the sky and said ‘hello’ to Marcail. “I took your advice. In the journal you gave me I’ve been telling him about me as well as some of our adventures.”

Starr smiled at him, thinking he looked so handsome in the moonlight, but then he always looked handsome to her. She’d missed him the last few evenings. “He’ll like that.” They sat in silence, enjoying the night and each other’s presence.

“Starr, about the other day . . . . We should talk,” Alistair began.

She interrupted, “I’m sorry, Stair, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just don’t know how I feel.”

“It’s not that, I want to talk about -”

“Oh, you mean you changed your mind because of what happened. I’m not surprised, I under-” she got no farther because Alistair, in exasperation, kissed her. And when she started to talk, he kissed her again.

“Shut. Up.” He decided to kiss her again, just for emphasis of course. “I haven’t changed my mind. I understand you’re not ready. I can wait.” He shifted until he had his arm around her and pulled her against him. “It’s something else you said, about Maric.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “When you first told me that Maric had been with you, it hurt me. It’s not logical, I know it wasn’t your choice, but I felt he stole something from me. Again. Then I felt betrayed by you when you said you spoke to him about me. I needed to, to think.”

Starr was distressed. “I’m so sorry, Stair. I shouldn’t have said anything; I didn’t even think that it would hurt you like that.” He didn’t need to look at her to know her eyes were brown.

“You’re talking again. I’m beginning to think you want me to keep kissing you,” he teased. When she didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Look, I need to say this, just let me finish while I have my thoughts in order. I never knew Maric. He and Cailan came to Redcliffe once, do you remember? A general introduction with the rest of the servants was my entire interaction with the great man. Didn’t even see him when we went to Denerim. There was more than one night in the Denerim kennels when I wondered what was wrong with me, why I couldn’t be part of a family, why my own father wanted nothing to do with me.” He absent-mindedly rubbed her arm while he brooded. Starr wrapped her arms around him in silent comfort.

“I wanted his attention; I wanted him to at least acknowledge my existence, that I was more than a random stranger. Was that really asking so much? Even if it was in private, couldn’t he have at least pretended he cared what happened to me? Eventually, I began to hate him. In my head, he was always ‘Maric, bloody Maric’ and a complete villain. I didn’t dare say anything; Eamon would punish me for being disrespectful. And yet, when you told me he was with you I was jealous of you! Can you believe that? And no,” he blushed as he clarified, “I don’t mean in that way.” Starr had to stifle a snicker. “I was jealous because regardless of the circumstances you managed to have more of a relationship with my father than I did. And I was jealous of him because he was with you, how sick is that? You are **my** friend; he had no business being with you. Irrational and childish, I know. It was like all those feelings from years ago came rushing back and focused on that moment, I didn’t even realize how much his indifference still bothered me. I’m ashamed to admit I was overwhelmed. I’m sorry I failed you, Starr.”

Starr sat up straight in surprise and temper and looked at him, “What are you talking about? You’ve **never** failed me, ever.” She stood up and looked down on him in a huff, hands on her hips. “You decided to legitimate my lie and claim Marcail as your son; you may have saved my life when you found me after that damn spider; you held me when I told you about what happened; you’ve never made me feel dirty or less because of the past. I will box your ears if you ever say something so stupid again,” she was angrier than Alistair had seen her since dealing with bullies as children.

Alistair gulped as he looked up at her, the unusual view of those long, gorgeous legs. _“She is so beautiful, and her legs . . . get hold of yourself, Alistair. Now is not the time to be distracted.”_ He cleared his throat and coughed, “Ahem, yes, well, that’s what I felt. Sit down, Starr, before I get a stiff neck.” He rubbed his hands over his face and waited while she sat down in front of him. Sighing wearily he continued, “I didn’t dare say anything, at the mention of his name my mind just exploded. By not saying anything then, I feel I failed you. I’m not trying to make you angry but I’m not going to apologize for feeling that way.” His own temper stirred, a rare event. “My very existence has been a dirty little secret and I’m getting tired of apologizing. I may apologize for my actions or lack of action, but I am damn well not going to apologize anymore for the way I feel.”

They were both silent as they calmed themselves. “Are you still jealous,” Starr asked quietly, Alistair’s rare display of temper had shaken her.

“Of Maric? No, I’m more jealous of Cailan because he is Marcail’s father and I know you’re fond of him. You don’t have to say it, I can tell. And, you should be, he was a good man and the father of your son. Heck, I’m jealous because he is a father and I will probably never be one. I’m glad he was good to you, tried to please you and at least gave you a better idea of what it should be like between a man and a woman. I’m even more jealous of that stupid ass you told me about than I am about Maric. Mostly, though, I’m grateful. I’m grateful you’re alive. I’m grateful that Cailan was good to you. I’m grateful that he and Maric did the decent thing when they realized you were too young. I’m even grateful that you could even think of being with a stupid ass, because it means you were healing. Maybe this is hard for you to hear, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. We’ve been friends for too long, and I would hate to lose that for any reason.”

“Never,” Starr was firm on that. Tears glistened in her eyes, but didn’t fall. She didn’t realize how much talking about what happened would hurt Alistair, but she should have. It hurt when he talked about feeling abandoned by Maric, but he was right. It was better to air it out rather than let it fester. Perversely, she felt secretly happy in a small part of her soul that he was jealous of Cailan. “Go on,” and she waited.

“Now there’s just one thing I want to know. What did Maric say? What did you talk about? Does Cailan know about Marcail? What did you think of them? Okay, that’s more than one thing. I’d rather know than not know.” Alistair leaned back on his hands and looked at her, waiting.

“Cailan recognized me. Oh, not right away, mud kind of got in the way. I half expected to be disciplined, I didn’t realize until you said something that he spoke to Fergus about me reporting to him. Anyway, when I saw him again he was near the ballistae looking down on the Korcari Wilds. He appeared to be deep in thought, so I waited. He motioned me to walk with him, and we walked to the end away from the soldiers. He made his guards stay behind. It was very windy, making it hard to talk and hear, so when we got to the broken tower he pulled me inside. That helped a lot.” She replayed the scene in her mind, “Oh! I just realized, we were talking for some time, the guards must have thought . . . Fergus must have thought . . . oh no,” she groaned and blushed.

Starr waved her hand in front of her face, as if brushing away cobwebs, “After I gave him my status report and made to leave, he put his hand on my arm and asked me to stay. He said he had looked for me, to see if I was all right but couldn’t find me. He asked how I was and if I had been okay, and asked about my son. Fergus must have said something. I told him we were both fine. Then he asked about Marcail’s father. I didn’t want anybody to overhear, but he deserved to know the truth. I told him he looked like his Uncle Alistair but had his father’s blue eyes.”

She thought about that evening, _“I can still see the quiet joy and pride on Cailan’s face, and regret for missing so many years. He looked at me so tenderly just then; he put his hand under my chin and kissed me. It felt so nice, just a quiet kiss. Then he wrapped his arms around me, holding me, and kissed me again, now I know there was passion under the tenderness. I think he might have gone further, but he stopped. He said I deserved more than he could offer, but would like to be my friend, that I could count on his support. I told him he would always have a special place in my heart, that I had no regrets because he gave me Marcail.”_ Alistair wondered about the smile on her face, but didn’t press the issue, just waited. “He seemed happy, though he regretted the difficulty he knew I must have had. He pledged his friendship and support. If I ever needed anything, I could call on him. He even gave me his ring, to consider it a symbol of his promise and something I could give to Marcail in the future. He asked about the men who brought me to him, but I decided not to tell him what they did or planned. I probably would have, after Ostagar, but we both know what happened.” She brooded over Cailan’s fate. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him. I never regretted telling him he had a son, I think it may have been the only truly happy thing he had to think about in those last few days. Every time I saw him after that, I would tell him something about Marcail, anybody hearing probably thought I was boring him by being ‘the proud mama’ and that he was being kind.”

“He was a good man,” Alistair said quietly.

“He talked about you, you know.” Starr told him. “In fact he was the one to tell me you were in camp, that you were now a Grey Warden. He said that before he died, Maric had been trying to find out which chantry you were in. He hoped that after the battle you and he could find time to talk, get to know each other. I think that’s partly why he sent you to the Tower that night with Elissa.”

Alistair blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes as he absorbed the pain of loss he hadn’t expected to feel. His brother wanted to know him and his father had looked for him, these were things he never expected to hear. He reached forward to take Starr’s hand, “Thank you for telling me, really. I, I feel better, knowing that Maric didn’t just put me out of his mind, that Cailan wanted to have a relationship.” She squeezed his hand.

“I think Maric regretted giving you away, but I also think at the time he thought he was doing the right thing for you, giving you a chance at a normal life. You should have seen the look on their faces when I asked why they had pictures of you.” They both snickered. “Maric started peppering me with questions, ‘who was Alistair’ and ‘where was I from,’ that sort of thing. I said you were my bestest friend ever and we knew each other in Redcliffe. I realized he must be your father, would you feel better if I said I felt like kicking him in the shins for leaving you?” Alistair’s grin was her reward. “Ha! I thought so. Anyway, he wanted to know all about you, but he disguised it as curiosity about me. He and Cailan showed me around a bit; I saw a portrait of Queen Rowan. They looked sad as they gazed at it, but all Maric said was that ‘she was quite a woman.’ Cailan has, I mean had, her eyes, you know. Maric taught me chess, and Cailan tried to teach me how to hold a sword, but he wasn’t very successful at it. Mostly I kept dropping it. After banging his toes a few times, he gave up. Over chess, Maric would ask about Redcliffe, what we did. He laughed when I told him about stealing cheese. He said he liked a good piece of cheese himself. He got really still when I told him about the stables, I think he was angry. When I told him about the chantry, his eyes got really bright and he excused himself. Cailan went after him, but I don’t know what they said.”

She shrugged, “He stopped asking me about Redcliffe after that. He would still talk, but sometimes I think it was more to himself. A lot of what he said I didn’t really understand until later. He said sometimes you made decisions thinking they were for the best, but they didn’t always turn out the way you wanted. I remember asking him if he knew he made a mistake, why he didn’t just fix it. He said being king meant you couldn’t think about just yourself, and that anything you did would have . . . repercussions, I think was the word he used. That even if you wanted to fix a mistake, you had to be careful because the consequences were bigger than if you were just a merchant or even a Bann.” Starr frowned as she tried to remember exactly what he said. “They tried to stop me from going back, but I knew, thought I knew, that I had to. Maric told me I could come back to the lodge anytime, that if I ever needed anything he would make sure the servants knew to allow me in and to send for either him or Cailan. That was the last time I saw him.” She stretched out in the grass and looked at the stars, thinking.

_“So, my father really didn’t forget about me, and he wanted me to have a decent life. Cailan wanted to get to know me.”_ Alistair flung himself on the ground next to Starr. _“I wonder what Maric thought he could do if he did find me, maybe he would have left me there if he thought I was happy. Maybe he would have been happy if Cailan and I could have been friends. Sounds like he wasn’t the awful person I’ve painted him to be all these years.”_ He felt some of his resentment fade. He didn’t know if that would ever go away completely, after all, Maric was the one who decided to let Eamon raise him. He looked at the woman next to him. _“But I wouldn’t have known Starr. I can’t imagine not ever knowing her. Maybe he could have done things differently, but I’m glad she’s in my life.”_

Starr finally broke the silence, “Are you mad at me?”

“Maker! No. Thank you for telling me. I’m just thinking. I realize it’s a rare event, but I do like to indulge occasionally,” he said drily. He quoted Zevran, “Fate, she iz a tricky whore.” His bad attempt at an Antivan accent had them both laughing.

The sounds of their laughter drifted into the night sky.


	30. Wynne

Wynne was tired. She wondered if she was too old to be traveling with the wardens. That last battle, so many darkspawn and then Alistair and Starr buried in that hillside, she’d had to draw on the spirit more than usual. Two days later and she was still fatigued. She looked forward to getting to Lake Calenhad; she was going to sleep in a bed. She didn’t care if it was at the inn or at the Circle, she needed a bed. A proper night’s rest without having to worry about an attack would help her immensely. Actually, for once she preferred the Spoiled Princess. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep in the Tower after Uldred’s mess. Not yet. She knew Elissa planned to check in with Irving and Greagoir while they were so close so she went back to checking on her supplies. They were definitely going to need a lot more lyrium as well as some other things. She made a mental note to talk to Morrigan; the irritating young woman probably needed her stores replenished as well.

She started when a large mug of steaming tea was placed in her hands. She looked up to see Starr staring at her in concern. “Wynne, are you alright? You seem, I was going to say tired, but I think it’s more than that.”

Wynne sipped the tea gratefully, “I’m more tired than usual, but that’s all. Actually,” she surprised herself by continuing, “I’m not looking forward to going back to the Circle. So many dead, so much damage they won’t have had time to repair. I used to find comfort there, although Morrigan wouldn’t believe me, and now I’m very much afraid I will only find ghosts and echoes. Listen to this old woman, I’m getting maudlin. Thank you for the tea my dear.”

“I understand,” said Starr, her eyes getting a faraway look. Wynne looked at the young woman closely; she liked Starr. She was like Alistair in some ways, wanting to help others. Alistair protected and Starr nurtured. She smiled as she thought of that dinner at Redcliffe, now that was a level of courtesy mages weren’t used to. No wonder Anders became giddy; she had a sneaking suspicion that Irving himself felt something similar. She rather enjoyed watching their romance develop, even if it was painfully slow at times. She wondered when Alistair was going to give Starr the rose he asked Wynne to enchant; she had no doubt that was his plan.

“Starr, did you come over here just to drink tea with me, or was there something else? I appreciate your company, of course but I do wonder.”

“You’re tired, it can wait until another time,” Starr smiled at Wynne before starting to leave.

“Sit down and tell me what’s on your mind. If nothing else, it will be good for me to think of something else,” Wynne smiled, curious now.

Starr hesitated before beginning, “We-ell, it’s two things, really.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked at the older woman shyly through a fall of hair. “How do you know you’re in love and not just infatuated or attracted?” she said in a quiet rush.

Wynne couldn’t resist smiling at the young woman, “I’m flattered you think I would know and that I’m not some dried up old woman.”

Teasingly, Starr replied, “Well, Zevran does say you ‘have a magnificent bosom,’” she chuckled at Wynne's huff. “You just seem like you have lived, not merely existed all these years. Not that I’m saying you’re old,” she hastily added.

“That man is going to go too far one of these days. And I am old; I’ll say it for you. I suppose I have lived, even in the Circle there are plenty of opportunities for romance as well as mere dalliances. Not that this behavior is encouraged, but human nature doesn’t change just because one is a mage.” Wynne thought about Starr’s question. “I can only answer for myself; I doubt it’s the same for everyone. In my experience, infatuation is generally short-lived. It can be very intense, but there’s really nothing substantial to sustain it so it dies on its own. I think it’s more fragile, I think it’s built less on a real person but what you project onto that person; and like all illusions easily dispelled when reality intrudes. It doesn’t mean it’s not painful when that happens. It feels real enough at the time.”

“For me,” continued Wynne, “infatuation and simple attraction are limited in their scope. You may want to bed that person, or even think you want to marry them, but it’s more selfish and you’re not really thinking of living with that person for forty years. Real love, that’s different. You can picture the two of you growing old together; you want their happiness more than your own, and the knowledge that they are simply there gives you joy. It’s hard to picture your life without them. Love means you can enjoy the little things together, sharing a meal, sharing a silence. Are you thinking of Alistair, by chance?”

Starr refused to answer the mage. She didn’t need to; the direction of her eyes gave her away. Instead, she asked another question, “Can you be attracted to more than one person at the same time? That doesn’t seem right, somehow.”

Wynne laughed, “Oh child, sometimes I forget just how young you are. Desire and love are two separate things. Yes, love will include desire, but unless you’re dead, you’re bound to find other people attractive. You might even be curious, but if you meet an attractive or charming person, it’s perfectly normal to feel some desire, even have the odd fantasy. That doesn’t stop just because you are in love, you might even be more likely to notice the attractions of others. Does that answer your question?”

“It’s given me something to think about.” She looked as if she was debating something, and then came to a decision. “Wynne, I have some old scars that bother me sometimes. Would you be willing to take a look and see if there’s anything you can do? I don’t mean you have to do anything right now. I was thinking I could get a room at the inn near the docks and you could take care of it then, if you can do anything at all.”

Wynne remembered the scars she saw near the spider fang. However, they didn’t look like the type of scars that would bother Starr now, at least not physically. It would certainly do no harm to look. “Do you want to step into my tent where I can look at them in privacy?” Starr nodded and they went inside. While Wynne made sure there was enough light, Starr turned her back and removed her shirt. Kneeling, she moved her hair out of the way and waited, shoulders hunched.

Wynne couldn’t control a slight gasp of horror and pity when she saw Starr’s back. She’d known some templars who abused their power, but this, this was beyond anything she had ever seen. No wonder Starr wanted them gone. She forced herself to put aside her feelings and examine them closely, objectively. “How old are these scars?”

“I was thirteen,” Starr whispered.

“I see,” was all Wynne said, but inside she felt sick. It was bad enough that somebody did this despicable thing, but to a **_child_** was beyond her comprehension. “How do they bother you?” She continued examining them as Starr explained. “Alright my dear, you can pull your shirt back on,” Wynne told her gently. Starr turned around, but refused to look at the mage directly.

“Well, I have good news and bad news. I can’t make them go away; they’re too old and too deep. They didn’t heal very cleanly.” Starr’s shoulders sagged, but again she nodded her head. She’d been expecting that. Wynne took a deep breath, “However, if I can get Morrigan’s help I _can_ reduce them so they are more like the whip scars. It will be painful for you, possibly as painful as the original injury.” Starr looked at her then with wide brown eyes. “It’s obvious to me that some of these cuts are very close to the nerve. I can’t do anything to numb the pain, I will have to re-open them and then heal the fresh wounds. I need to be able to judge when I am getting too close to a nerve, and if you can’t feel pain, I won’t be able to tell. I’m sorry that I would have to put you through that, child. Afterwards, I will numb the pain and put you in a deep sleep for 24 hours. We’ll have the time. While you’re asleep, we’ll keep them covered with healing poultices. We’ll change them regularly. When you wake up, they will still be red, but they will be clean, not raised, they won’t be a constant irritation. Eventually, they will turn white like the others.”

Starr’s eyes cleared. “Please, that was the most I expected. I need to do this, if you and Morrigan are willing.”

Wynne slowly nodded agreement. “I need to talk to her about what supplies she needs. As soon as I finish making my list, I’ll go speak to her.”

“Thank you, Wynne. I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am that something can be done.” She smiled brilliantly and left the tent. Only then did Wynne relax her ‘healer’s face’ and close her eyes. A slow tear made its way down her face and she felt very old.

A new sense of purpose began to build inside her. Quickly she finished cataloging what she needed and made her way to Morrigan’s camp.

“I have already prepared a list of what I require. I presume that is why you are here,” Morrigan handed her list to Wynne dismissively. The less time she spent with the Circle mage the better.

“Morrigan, how much do you know of the healing arts?”

That was not a question Morrigan expected. She answered cautiously, “I know some simple spells, and I can make various potions. Flemeth dealt with anything more complex; sometimes I would ‘lend’ her mana.”

Wynne relaxed, just a little, “That will be enough. When we get to Lake Calenhad I am going to need your assistance with something.” Before Morrigan could get snarky she quickly added, “It’s for Starr.”

“Starr? I thought she was completely healed from falling into a pit with that stupid templar,” Morrigan answered in surprise.

“This is, this is about taking care of some old injuries which didn’t heal cleanly at the time. The scars bother her to this day.” Wynne didn’t like discussing too many details until she had Morrigan’s agreement.

“I will need more information than that, old woman, before I can agree to anything,” Morrigan was getting impatient.

Wynne sighed, wishing there was a less prickly mage she could deal with. “Seven years ago somebody carved into her back with a knife. The wounds were not clean cuts, nor did they heal cleanly. They cause her some pain to this day. I can reopen and re-heal them, but it will be a long and painful process. I can’t do it by myself, I need another mage.”

Morrigan stared, her mouth slightly agape, “Seven years? She would still have been a child then.” Wynne slowly nodded her head. Morrigan thought back to Starr’s journal, and the faces she saw in it, the ones that disturbed Starr. She reflected on the fact that she had started to think of Starr as a friend, she could admit to herself that she could be rather off-putting. But Starr didn’t seem to mind. Starr had a capacity to accept people as they were which Morrigan found bewildering and fascinating. Especially concerning that idiot Alistair. Although even he was less of an idiot these days. “Very well, I shall assist you. Perhaps you could teach me some of the spells you will be using. I’m better at destruction than healing, but I should become more proficient if possible.”

Wynne smiled slightly, “That sounds fair enough. I’ll tell Starr. Right now, we have enough supplies to do this without having to get more from the Circle first. Maker willing, we won’t have to use them in the next day or two. Thank you, Morrigan.” As she left, she couldn’t help but think that Starr must have some sort of magic that brought out the best in people. Even in prickly apostates.


	31. A Long Night at the Inn

The Spoiled Princess was as unprepossessing as ever. The rain was a perfect setting for the inn; it blurred the outlines of the Circle Tower looming in the middle of Lake Calenhad. Starr was in her room, looking across the lake and waiting for Wynne and Morrigan. Hugging herself, her mind wandered back to the mage, Anders was his name, _“No wonder he was giddy to get out of the Tower. I think I’d go mad if I were supposed to spend my entire life there, closed off from the world with people making sure I couldn’t get out. Zevran talks about the Crows as a ‘gilded cage.’ I wonder how many mages think the same of the Circle.”_ She shook her head and double-checked the preparations she’d made. She’d borrowed a lightweight apron from the innkeeper’s wife to wear instead of a shirt or nothing at all. She wasn’t particularly modest after her years with the Dalish, but she wasn’t sure about the mages, and she wanted them as comfortable as possible while they were healing her back.

She snorted a little; the innkeeper was beside himself with gratitude. He wasn’t even charging them for the rooms. Not after they took care of those strange people threatening his family. _“Somebody is obviously afraid of something being discovered. Whether it’s the Urn of Sacred Ashes or something else Brother Genitivi discovered, I don’t know. But to lay a false trail leading here, and then have people waiting to commit murder if anybody asks the right, or should I say wrong, questions is a bit much. Elissa, Leliana, and Sten are out there now, looking for clues and to make sure there are no more. We certainly don’t want word getting back to that weasel Weylon. In a way, this works out well for me; we have to stay here longer since they weren’t able to get to the Circle today. Griffon and Fen will enjoy themselves in the woods, hope they don’t scare too many of the locals.”_

Voices outside her door heralded the arrival of the mages, as well as Alistair and Zevran. Wynne was remonstrating with Alistair, telling him they didn’t need either him or Zevran while they worked. Morrigan was holding her tongue with an effort. When they entered the room, they all looked at the woman staring out the window, her hair down in a loose ponytail. Against the darkened outdoors, Starr could see a shadowy reflection of the room and its occupants. Alistair and Zevran stood against the far wall in identical poses: feet spread, arms crossed over their chests as they gazed implacably at the mages. Starr admired their reflections, the strong and sturdy warrior with the sun-gold hair next to the lithe and sinewy elf exuding a dancer’s grace even when still. She felt strangely detached as she looked at them. Maybe it was just a result of preparing herself for the ordeal to come, but she felt almost as if she were watching strangers in another room and only she was aware of the invisible wall separating them.

Alistair was worried. Initially after their post cave-in conversation, he thought they had reached a new level of understanding. But Starr had thrown up a barrier. Oh, as long as the conversation remained impersonal or about Marcail, they joked and smiled at each other as they always had. However, the minute Alistair started to say something or touch her in any but the most casual fashion her walls came up. He wasn’t even sure she was aware of it. She never did anything overt, and Alistair didn’t think anybody else had noticed. Well, except probably Zevran, but he wouldn’t say a word to anyone. 

Alistair stopped listening to Wynne and looked at Starr more closely. She seemed separate from them rather than just quiet. He strode over and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened slightly but he ignored the silent request to remove it. “Starr?” he queried, when he had her attention, “we’re not trying to intrude on your privacy, but we care. We want to make sure you know you have our support and we will help you in any way possible.”

“Si, bellissima,” Zevran gave a shallow bow to the two mages, “While these two magnificent mages are here to help you, they must concentrate on what they are doing. We can concentrate on you.”

Alistair continued, “You are not alone, Starr, never again. We will stay until you are asleep, and will come back when Wynne is finished. Something shifted in her eyes and Alistair saw it. “What, what did I say? Is something wrong?”

When Starr didn’t say anything, Wynne reluctantly answered. “She has to be awake and I can do nothing to dull her pain or I risk damaging her nerves, possibly crippling her.”

Alistair and Zevran paled. They looked at Starr, anger and hurt in Alistair’s eyes, and in unison stated, “We’re staying.”

Finally, Starr spoke to them, though she looked only at Alistair, “And what if I don’t want you? What if this is my choice?” Alistair felt the hurt deep inside his soul, but other than his absolute stillness, he refused to show it. Zevran and Wynne winced on his behalf, and even Morrigan took no pleasure in his pain.

Through stiff lips, Alistair replied, “I’m going to disregard that because you’re not thinking straight. There is no way in Thedas I am going to let you relive the pain of the worst experience of your life without me. Even if all I can do is hold your hand and let you squeeze until the bones break, I am staying. And so is Zev.” He turned away from her and walked to Wynne. “So, how are we doing this?”

After some discussion and false starts, they were ready to begin. Alistair sat in a chair with Starr on his lap facing him. He could hold her still if needed and with her arms wrapped around his neck, her back was at a good angle and the skin at a good level of tautness for Wynne’s treatment. Zevran sat behind Alistair ready to lend a hand any way he could, and help Alistair in distracting Starr. Wynne and Morrigan sat in front of Alistair, Wynne as close as possible. Once Starr’s hair was out of the way, Morrigan got her first look at the scars. She was appalled; Wynne’s description hadn’t prepared her for what she saw. For the first time in her life, a slow anger began to build on behalf of another. She looked at Alistair and saw he was watching her. She nodded her head at him and then followed Wynne’s actions closely.

“My dear,” Wynne began, “I think it best I take care of this one scar at a time. On the first, I will tell you what I am doing at each step. You will experience pain, when I reopen the wound it will be a deep burning pain, when I start healing you should feel more of an icy pain. Both of these should be steady, if you feel a sharp pain or a drastic increase you must let me know. Zevran, I brought some tea leaves with me, would you make sure that there is always some hot water? I doubt I can do this without stopping, and the tea will help me refresh and replenish my mana. I think it will also be good for Starr and Alistair to stand and stretch occasionally.”

“But of course, dear lady, if you let me know beforehand I will even prepare it for you,” Zevran replied. “I will even give you a massage if that is your desire.”

“The tea will be fine, thank you,” Wynne’s response was dry as the desert. “Morrigan, watch closely. You already know how to monitor my mana and share it as needed; we can talk about the actual healing afterwards. As soon as you feel that you only have about half the normal mana, let me know and I will get ready to take a break.” She turned her attention to Starr, “Starr, I will lightly trace the specific scar before I begin, so you will know what to expect and I can feel the depth of the wound for that scar. If you are ready I will begin.”

Starr’s voice was muffled against Alistair’s shoulder when she replied, “I’m ready.”

“Very well, I will begin with those in the middle, closer to your spine. They will require more delicate handling and I want to do them while I am most refreshed. I’m tracing the letter ‘n’ now. Can you feel it?” Starr nodded at the cool touch. “Good, now I am going to reopen the wound, slowly along those lines. You should be feeling a deep burn, let me know if that changes.” Wynne slowly opened the scar, removing the old scar tissue in the process until she had clean edges. Morrigan used a clean damp cloth to clean and soothe the area so Wynne could continue. Starr tightened her grip on Alistair, but otherwise did not move. “I have removed the old tissue and will now begin healing the wound using the fresh edges. Do you feel the difference?”

Starr gasped and then replied in surprise, “It’s cold, but also feels . . . minty. I didn’t think you could _feel_ minty.”

“Hmmm, it must be because it is such a deep healing,” Wynne replied as she continued. “Normally if a person needs deep healing I block all feeling or put them to sleep. The edges are coming together nicely, which is a good sign for the rest.”

Wynne continued treating the scars as the night wore on, with only a few breaks. Sometimes Starr would grab Zevran’s hand when the pain got bad. Alistair followed Wynne's movements closely and held his Starr tight. He felt his shirt grow damp with silent tears and would kiss her hair or shoulder to show his support. He and Zevran told humorous stories to try to distract her. Zevran’s stories would frequently involve his sexual exploits with men or women, which rarely failed to cause Alistair to blush and protest. Alistair talked about the number of times he got in trouble with the Revered Mother or his templar trainers. Even Morrigan chuckled at some of his antics.

Hours later, Wynne spoke, “Starr, my dear, we are done. Can you stand?”

Alistair loosened his grip so they could both stand. Starr was a bit unsteady and had to lean on him for a minute. “Take your time, Starr, I’ve got you,” he whispered soothingly. After a moment, she was able to stand on her on feet.

Wynne looked at Alistair and Zevran, “Gentlemen, your help was appreciated, but give us a few minutes to get Starr settled. I’ll let you back in, I promise. I’ll numb the pain but won’t use ‘sleep’ before you return.”

The men left and Alistair muttered something about getting some air and quickly left. Zevran followed. He found Alistair by the lake, his chest heaving as he gulped in the cool night air. He picked up some stones and started throwing them at an old abandoned boat, trying to do as much damage as possible. Angry tears slipped out and his breathing was harsh. Zevran stood watching as the young man worked out some of his tension. Finally, “Are you alright, my friend?”

Alistair gave a bitter laugh, “Are you?”

“Ah,” Zevran was silent a moment. “Are you feeling better now after beating up a boat?”

Alistair thought about it, “Yes,” was all he said. He smiled to himself when he heard Zevran pick up some rocks and stand beside him. Together they threw more rocks until the boat had some sizeable holes. Finally, Alistair spoke, “They should be ready by now, I’m going to get a clean shirt and then go back. Shall we?”

In silent camaraderie, the two men went back to the inn. Alistair stripped off his shirt and washed his face before putting on a clean cotton shirt. He grabbed his pack and together they went to check on their Starr.

Wynne was smiling. “She’s all set. I have several poultices ready and they will need to be changed every 2 hours for the next 8 hours, then changed every 4 hours after that until she wakes. I’m assuming you will be taking charge of that as well, Alistair?” She was definitely amused when Alistair just calmly nodded. “Very well, I’ve blocked the pain and put the first poultice on. I want her to sleep, so if you have anything to say to her, say it now.”

They immediately went to her bedside. Alistair kneeled down by her head and stroked her hair until she looked at him. “I’m sorry Stair,” she said quietly. At his perplexed look, she elaborated. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier, I’m glad you were here, and you Zevran.”

“We-ell,” Alistair drawled, “I forgive you. If I can be an idiot sometimes it’s only fair that you can be a bitch occasionally.” Starr snickered before looking at Zevran.

“Bellissima, you could never be a bitch, I don’t know what your templar is talking about. I am just happy that you are well,” and he kissed her hand. Alistair rolled his eyes. “But now, the wonderful and formidable Wynne is ready to box our ears if we do not let you sleep. We elves take that threat very seriously, let me tell you.” He lightly stood and moved away. As Wynne worked her final magic for the night, he had a quiet word with Morrigan who nodded her head in agreement with whatever he was saying.

Once she was satisfied that Starr was in deep sleep, Wynne relaxed and admitted she was tired. “Alistair, you and Zevran know where my room is in case you need me. I’ll return in the morning. I admit I could use a glass of wine about now. Morrigan, why don’t we talk in my room instead of here? I’m sure Alistair and Zevran will be quite bored with the technical details of healing.”

She looked tired, Zevran came to her and said, “Oh masterful mage, allow me escort you to your room. Thank you for . . .” his voice trailed off down the hall as he steered her to her room.

“Take off your shirt, Alistair. I don’t have all night,” Morrigan demanded.

“Pardon?” Alistair’s eyes were wide, “all night for what?” he asked, and then blushed.

Morrigan’s eyes filled with quiet amusement, “I want to look at your shoulder of course, and the elf said it was injured. Wynne is tired so it is left to me to fix it. Aren’t you pleased?”

Muttering something about interfering elves, Alistair did as Morrigan requested. “I was going to put a poultice on it, you know.”

“Alistair, she bit you, it looks like she drew blood. Human bites can be quite nasty if left untreated, why did you not say something?”

Alistair’s face became stubborn. “Starr would have stopped if she knew. This was too important to her. I’ve had worse.”

“Fool templar,” Morrigan muttered. “Lucky for you I know some basic healing, this will be quite sufficient. Now be still.” For the first time, as she was healing him, Morrigan really noticed Alistair as a man. She quite appreciated his physique and the way his chest hair trailed down below the waistband of his pants. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she finished. “There, all done. You can put your shirt back on, if you wish.”

“I, that is, thank you Morrigan. Not just for this but for helping Wynne,” Alistair was sincere when he spoke.

“You are welcome. I won’t deny that I learned something this evening, but I am glad I was able to help Starr. I don’t know why she likes you, that appears to be her only failing. She is an otherwise interesting person.”

Alistair was amused, “I don’t know why she likes me either. I’m just glad she does.”

Morrigan snorted. “Humph. On another topic, Alistair, do you and the assassin know who did this?”

“Maybe, we have a strong possibility.” Alistair’s reply was guarded.

“Hmmm,” Morrigan wandered around the room until she found Starr’s pack. Before Alistair could stop her, she’d opened it and pulled out her journals. She quickly leafed through them until she found the one she was searching for and handed it to Alistair who had come up behind her. “I think, Alistair, you might find this interesting, especially towards the end.” With that, she scooped the remaining journals into the pack and left the room.

He watched her leave with a reflective expression on his face. Then he went to his own pack and found a package he’d been carrying since Denerim. He took out some items and set them on the table where Starr would see them when she woke. He settled himself in a chair by her side and looked at the journal Morrigan handed to him. He turned it over in his hands a few minutes, thinking, and then finally opened it. Putting aside Morrigan’s suggestion for the moment, he started reading from the beginning. _“Wow, these drawings, Starr is really good.”_ He was so engrossed in the journal he didn’t hear Zevran return. He started when Zevran insinuated himself onto his lap. He barely stiffened in protest before he relaxed and remarked, drily with one eyebrow raised, “Comfortable, Zevran?”

Zevran smiled mischievously, “Marvelously so, my dear templar. I am so glad you are not wearing that hard, uncomfortable armor you favor. I admit to being surprised that you didn’t just push me to the floor.”

“Ha, I figured you were just trying to get a rise out of me,” Alistair smirked.

“Oh-ho and the surprises never end. Did I get a _rise_ out of you, oh handsome warrior?” He laughed as Alistair got red and began to sputter. He kissed the blushing templar on the cheek and leapt up, “And there is the innocent we’ve all come to know and love.” He wisely moved out of Alistair’s reach. When Alistair calmed down enough to just glare at him, he decided it was safe enough to ask, “So, what were you looking at so intently? It is not wise to be so unobservant of your surroundings, you never know what might happen,” he added sternly.

“You mean like sneaky perverse elves?” Alistair muttered. Shaking his head at Zevran’s antics, he finally decided to answer him. “This is one of Starr’s journals; Morrigan handed it to me and said we might find some answers inside. I just started looking at it. Pull up a chair and we can look at it together.”

“Ah Alistair, still resisting my charms. I am surely crushed. What is so interesting about this journal? Entertaining as they might be, I do not think we should read about her fantasies.”

“Ha-ha, as if Morrigan would know about it if that was the case. No, it’s information and drawings about plants. I never realized she was so talented. She must take after her grandmother.” Alistair waited for Zevran to sit down. “Look how detailed the drawings are and the notes about the uses of the different herbs. She even has medicinal and poisonous plants in here.”

“It appears that my comely cousin has many talents indeed. Did she draw much when you were children?” Zevran was curious.

“No, we spent most of our time running around, playing games and getting into mischief. Maybe she drew when we weren’t together, but I think that must have come later.” Alistair flipped through some of the pages until he came to some other drawings. He stopped at the drawings of her parents. His fingers traced their features, “they were good, kind people and they cared for a lonely little boy. Sometimes when I was lying in the stables at night, I would pretend they were my parents and I was just camping. It was easier to pretend when Starr was with me; we would tell stories or talk to the horses. Once we spent the night playing with some new kittens. Starr was the only person the mother would allow near them. If I wasn’t with her I didn’t stand a chance until they were older.” He smiled in nostalgia as he turned the page, and was stunned. At first, he thought he was looking at a picture of Marcail until he noticed the subtle differences. He was looking at the child Alistair.

Zevran was impressed, the hand may have been young and untrained and the talent still developing but Starr managed to capture the essence of the boy: the loneliness overlaying the easy humor and loyalty of the man he would become. If he had just met Alistair, this picture would explain much about him. He was now extremely curious about the other drawings in her journal. He nudged Alistair to flip the page.

Alistair decided to start from the back, even then, he would have lingered but he resisted the temptation, focusing on finding what Morrigan hinted at. He flipped through many pages until he came to pages with people he didn’t recognize. There were three men of particular interest, they all looked capable of cruelty, but one with light hair looked like he might be Starr’s ‘blond lord.’ His face seemed etched in a permanent sneer and evil delight seemed to resonate in his eyes. Alistair looked at Zevran; the grim look on his face mirrored his own thoughts. There would be no reason for Starr to draw these people if they meant nothing to her. Casual interaction would not have picked up on the depth of cruelty depicted here. Just to make sure, he looked through the remaining drawings, but only these could be the ones Morrigan hinted at. He sat back, thinking.

Zevran spoke up then, “Alistair, we should use these drawings to help us identify the men who hurt our Starr.”

“I agree, but I don’t want to take her journal or rip out these pages. I have no skill in this area, but maybe you can copy them?”

“Hmm, yes, I believe I can trace the main lines and then fill them in using her drawings as reference points. They won’t be nearly as good, but more than good enough for our purposes. I shall make a set for each of us.” Zevran left to get the tools he needed.

Alistair got a brush and started brushing Starr’s hair. Maker, he loved the feel of her hair. He hoped she never decided to cut it. “Don’t worry my love, we will find these men and make sure they never hurt anybody again. I will regret to the day I die that I was not there to help you then, but I will not fail you again. You have my word. I love you and I would gladly die for you. You make me even prouder to be a Grey Warden; you are everything we are fighting for. I don’t want you to worry about these so-called men anymore.” He kissed the top of her head and checked the poultices on her back. Deciding it was time to change them, he stood up and retrieved fresh poultices from the supply left by Wynne.

Zevran had come back quietly, in time to hear Alistair’s words to Starr. _“Ah, Alistair, I think you just might be worthy of my lovely cousin. More so than . . .”_ Of course Zevran did not tell this to Alistair, he was used to keeping his secrets very well. “Alistair, help me clear the table and adjust the light so I can get to work. This will take some time if we wish to have the best copies. I do not have the talent of my dear Starr.” Once the table was clear, he got to work. Alistair left him to it and went back to his seat by Starr. He picked up the brush and continued brushing her hair.

The night wore on and the only sounds were the scratching of Zevran’s pen, rustling paper and Alistair’s quiet murmurs to the sleeping Starr. Finally, Zevran stood and stretched. “Well, my friend, I have done what I can. Come take a look.” He stretched out on the bed beside Starr. He took her hand so she would know in her sleep that he was there for her.

Alistair just shrugged his shoulders and examined Zevran’s drawings. “These are quite good, Zevran. I didn’t realize you were so skilled.”

Pleased, Zevran answered him, “Thank you, I am happy you think so. I can’t lay claim to the talent of our Starr, but I think those will do.”

“More than do. Maker, it’s been a long night.” He looked enviously at Zevran lying next to Starr. It was a big bed. “Move over Zevran and help me shift Starr so I can lie down as well. Unless you plan on leaving?” Zevran’s amused smirk was his answer. Together they gently shifted Starr so the tired templar could lie down as well.

When Wynne came in to check on her patient, she looked down at the three of them, the two men protective bookends around the sleeping woman. Zevran looked at her lazily through half opened eyes, daring her to protest. Wynne just smiled and checked on Starr. Her healing was progressing even better than she could have hoped. She nodded at Zevran and left the room after leaving more poultices. She may not approve of the elf, he was too glib, too flirty and forward, and his morals were not of the highest. But, she could no longer deny that he seemed genuinely fond of Starr, and would protect her. Nor did she think he would deliberately hurt Alistair or Elissa, he took his oath to the Wardens seriously. Starr certainly seemed fond of him. She would accept the younger woman’s judgment for now, and hope Zevran would stop comments about her ‘magnificent bosom’ or she would definitely box his ears.


	32. Girls’ Night

Starr was deep in thought. She was thinking about Alistair. When she woke up at the inn after Wynne’s healing (she should really do something special for the woman to thank her), he and Zevran were right next to her. Once they were satisfied she was all right, they both kissed her on the cheek and left to go to their own rooms. Only then did she see the cotton hair ribbons on the table. She knew right away that they were from Alistair; the jewel tones he selected would look nice against her hair. She wanted to accept them. But, would that send the wrong signal? Or the right one? She winced as she remembered their conversation several days ago. “Stair, these are lovely, but I shouldn’t accept them.” She was miserable even as she said the words.

“What? Why?” Then he got annoyed, “Starr, you’re my friend and I love you. If that makes you uncomfortable, deal with it. I’m not asking you for anything in return. I thought you would like them, so I bought them. I was saving them for your birthday and decided to give them to you now instead.”

“But -”

“No buts. I’m certainly not going to wear them. If you don’t want them, throw them away or give them to Morrigan. They’d probably look nice against her dark hair, if she’s the hair ribbon type. But I am not taking them back!” and he stalked off muttering something probably uncomplimentary. She didn’t welcome the jealousy she felt at the notion of him noticing Morrigan’s hair. How dare he say he loved her and then talk about another woman!

Since then she’d been avoiding him, and he’d let her. She appreciated that he wasn’t pushing her, and she knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She wished she knew how she really felt, or maybe she knew but was too afraid. That thought didn’t sit well with her. And he was asking something of her, she felt it each time he looked at her and didn’t see a ribbon in her hair. He tried to hide his disappointment, but she knew him too well. Did she love him? Definitely as a friend. But more than that? She thought maybe she did, but shouldn’t she know? Did she desire him? More than she ever would have thought she could desire anybody. Just being near him had her skin tingling in anticipation. And her dreams . . . She was interrupted in her musings when a body flopped down next to her.

“Urghh! I bet he never touched those farmers, their heads exploded from his constant nattering about how wrong they were about everything!”

Starr laughed as Elissa viciously tore at the grass with her fingers, “Sten giving you a hard time again?”

“Apparently I’m not a woman because I fight. So I am either not a woman or not a Grey Warden.” Elissa huffed.

“I’m confused,” Starr admitted.

“That’s what I said! I may not be as beautiful as you or Morrigan, but I’ve had my share of suitors and stolen kisses, shared passion. Nobody has ever complained that I wasn’t a woman. And then he goes on to say that Grey Wardens are supposed to be these great strategists and fighters, and that he hasn’t noticed that either. Arghh!”

“I don’t really understand his Qun, from what I’ve gathered it seems rather limiting,” Starr said thoughtfully.

Elissa ‘mumphed’ in agreement, but continued brooding. Finally, she snapped her fingers, “I know what I need. Girls’ night. I have some beer and wine I picked up at the Spoiled Princess. Morrigan’s tent is far enough away to give us some privacy against the men. Do you have anything special we can eat, make it a real event? Let Alistair cook for Mr. ‘You-aren’t-a-woman.’ We’ll do it up right.”

“I’ve never had a girls’ night. What do we do?”

“We have fun. My friends and I would talk about boys or fashion, our parents. We’d do each other’s hair or pretend we were at some fancy ball. Mostly it was a chance to be silly. Right now, I think we could use some silliness. I’ll send Leliana to help you carry anything you need and then go tackle Wynne and Morrigan.” Gleefully Elissa jumped up and ran off. Starr had a brief glimpse of what she must have been like a few years ago, before the murder of her parents.

Starr went into her tent, thinking. “Something special, what do I have that I can use to make something special? Hmm . . .” she started to rummage among her supplies, then thought of her mother’s recipe book. She quickly skimmed through it and realized what she could do. Humming, she began getting her ingredients together. When she heard Leliana approach, she called out, “in here, Leliana.”

When she came through the tent, Leliana was surprised. She wasn’t sure why, if she thought about it she would have realized that Starr would have to be organized in order to cook the wonderful things she did so easily. She could hardly afford to spend hours looking for things. Each bin or pack was neatly labeled and then neatly stacked, protected both above and below from damp. Starr was muttering to herself, double-checking what she would need. Leliana just waited until she was ready. She didn’t speak until Starr handed her a large pack, “What wonderful things are you planning for us that you need all this?”

Starr just grinned at her. “I think you’ll like it, it’s a bit different from anything I’ve made for you before.” She picked up a pack of equal size, then decided to grab a couple of things and tucked them away. Together they left the tent just to run into Alistair.

“Wait, where are you going? I was just going to ask if you needed help with dinner.”

Leliana giggled, “Funny you should mention that, Alistair. You will have to cook for the men; we women are having a ‘girls' night.’ Elissa declared it.” Before he could ask why, she told him, “Talk to Sten. He is the reason for this evening’s change of plans.” She pulled Starr along before he could stop them.

“But what am I supposed to cook?” Alistair asked the air where Starr used to be. Sighing he went to tell Zevran the bad news. Then they would have to tackle Sten, such a joyous prospect.

“So,” Morrigan greeted Starr and Leliana with a huff, “the Warden convinced you to do this, this ‘girls’ night’ thing. Flemeth never told me about such a custom. And why does it have to be here?” For all her complaining, she quickly made room for Starr. She and Leliana watched her unpack. “Elissa is convincing that Circle mage she’s not too old for a ‘girls' night.’”

Before Morrigan could complain some more, Leliana asked Starr if there was anything she or Morrigan could do to help. Starr smiled, “Actually, if you could wash these tubers and vegetables that would help a lot. And Morrigan? Would you bring some fresh water, a lot of it? Thank you both.” Morrigan rolled her eyes but went off with Leliana. Starr smiled to herself and got busy.

Morrigan came back first. She handed the water to Starr, exclaiming as she did so, “If that Chantry twit doesn’t stop harping at me about the Chantry and the Maker, I will surely turn her into the proverbial Chantry mouse.” She sat down and noticed with interest that Starr had several bowls and pots of different sizes already set up.

Wynne and Elissa came, and then Leliana returned with clean tubers and vegetables. “I didn’t realize cooking had so much labor involved. I always thought Alistair was just chatting more than actually helping.” Starr thanked her and got busy. The women watched in fascination as she sliced, diced, mixed and molded. She started something baking and then worked on vegetables and a sauce.

Morrigan finally broke their silence, “Warden, to what do we owe the pleasure of this event? I am sure I’ll enjoy whatever Starr is creating, but I would like to know why my campsite has been invaded.” Starr snorted but didn’t say anything.

“The oaf who calls himself a Qunari. Do you know, according to him none of us are women? And do you know why we are not women?” Elissa didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s because we fight. If we are women, we can’t fight. If we fight we can’t be women.”

“Maybe the women all look like Sten and they need well defined roles so they know who they are dealing with,” Starr said quietly. “Maybe that’s how they know who to court.”

Elissa looked at her, “Thank you so much for the image you just put into my head. I really needed to think of Sten’s love life.”

“Always willing to help, didn’t you know?” Starr smirked and continued cooking.

Elissa opened the wine and passed it around. “And of course he’s questioning my leadership. Apparently I don’t fit his idea of Grey Wardens as fighters and strategists.” She sighed, “Maybe he’s right about that. So far, we’ve only got one treaty agreement settled and now we’ve been back and forth across Ferelden because of the Urn. At least we took care of the fake Weylon and his fellow murderers.”

“Do not start to doubt yourself now,” Leliana interrupted her. “Only two Wardens survived Ostagar; you have to avoid Loghain and his army while you try to build the forces necessary to fight the Archdemon. You know you will have the support of Redcliffe, your quest will insure that regardless of the outcome because you are building goodwill. I have no doubts that you and Alistair will be successful with the dwarves and the Dalish. Every day the two of you are getting better at leading and at fighting darkspawn.”

“Thank you Leliana,” Elissa leaned her head on the redhead’s shoulders. “I guess I needed to hear somebody say that I’m not just wasting everybody’s time.”

“Warden, I never waste my time. Flemeth wouldn’t have suggested I travel with you if she thought that would be the case. I may not agree with all your decisions, but that does not mean you are wasting my time. If I thought you were, I would be gone. Do not doubt it.”

“Enough of this,” Elissa straightened up. “No more self-pity. Time for fun. You know, I never thought I would say this, but I miss being able to wear a dress sometimes. I swear, if Mother can hear me, she’s laughing. She used to nag and nag before I would put on a dress when we had guests. When this is over, and I’m settled somewhere, I am going shopping.”

“Ooo, I love shopping, and fashion. You must let me help; in Val Royeaux, not even the flowers could rival the colors and textures of the people in the streets. The leader of Orlais may be an emperor or empress, but fashion is king. If you had any claim to nobility, you must be sure to wear the latest fashions or risk being ignored by those more important. One year the women’s gowns were loose and flowing, layers of sheer colors and patterns and the men wore very tight trousers in dark colors with much embroidery. The trousers were so tight that nothing was left to the imagination, unless the man thought to, mmm, enhance certain areas of his physique.”

“How does a man enhance . . . you know what, never mind,” Elissa started to ask before deciding she really did not want to know certain details.

“I imagine many women were disappointed when the false advertising was revealed,” Wynne’s comment shocked the others. Wynne looked in amusement at her younger comrades, “I’m old, not dead. And I certainly never claimed to have led a celibate life.”

Morrigan was the first to recover, “Well, well,” was all she said, but it was enough. Starr handed round a bowl of crisply fried vegetable and tuber slices. “Hmm, I have never had anything like this before. Salty and crunchy, I could eat a handful of these.”

Leliana tried some, “These are so good, I could eat these all day.”

“Maybe I’ll have one to try.”

“Wynne, you won’t be able to stop at just one.” Elissa grabbed a handful, “These are perfect for tonight. What do you call them?”

Starr shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what to call them. Everything tonight is a bit of an experiment. I looked through my mother’s recipes and got some ideas based on what I had.”

“Child, if this is an experiment, then you should experiment more often. I am looking forward to the rest.”

“Thank you,” Starr smiled and then changed the subject. “Leliana, what was the most extravagant fashion you saw while you were in Orlais?” She busied herself stirring the various pots and began cooking the meat.

“It wasn’t clothes, though there were many extravagant fashions. One season the ladies all tried to outdo one another with the elaborateness of their hairstyles. Lady Cecilie, the woman who raised me after my mother died, had songbirds interspersed in a lavish array of curls and waves built up into a castle.” Leliana giggled at the memory.

“Live songbirds?” asked Morrigan.

“Oh dear,” was Elissa’s response.

“Yes,” continued Leliana. “The effect was quite charming at first, but terrified birds . . . I am sure you can imagine the ruin her hair was in by the end of the evening. In the carriage ride home, she opened a window and had me release the birds from their tethers. She never wanted to see them again. As soon as they found the window, they were gone. I did not envy Lady Cecilie’s maid, she had to wash her hair.” The women all laughed at the bard’s story. “But the shoes are what I miss the most. I love shoes. And there were so many styles to choose from.”

“What is so special about shoes?” Morrigan demanded. “They are there to keep your feet dry and protected.”

“I never admitted it to my friend Delilah, but I love shoes. These boots are practical enough, but . . .” Elissa’s voice trailed off.

“Exactly, they are practical but so-o ugly. In Orlais, the fashion before I left was high-heeled cloth slippers decorated with elaborate ribbons that wound around your ankles. Very fancy. Oh, I could go on and on.”

Starr looked up at her, “Wouldn’t they be hard to walk in?”

“Well, yes, I wouldn’t want to run in them. But for lounging in the boudoir, a lady sometimes just wants pretty feet. Isn’t that why you painted your toenails when you were at The Pearl?” Leliana asked   

“Well, Sanga did that. She said I needed to do something since I didn’t have shoes to go with the dress.” Starr went on to explain all about Sanga’s latest business venture.

“That sounds fantastic. Maybe we’ll have time for all of us to enjoy it at some point. I am so jealous of you right now,” Elissa declared. She stopped talking when Starr started serving the stew. In the bottom of each bowl, she put some of the crunchies, and then ladled the stew over it. The aromas from the rich tomato sauce of the stew had Elissa’s mouth watering.

“Starr, if you wished you could surely open an inn and it would be the most popular in Ferelden,” Leliana declared. The others agreed and Starr flushed in pleased acknowledgement of their praise. Leliana continued, “I feel sorry for Zevran and Alistair, that they are missing this treat because of Sten. Surely we can at least make a plate for them?”

Whether it was the wine, the food or the company, Elissa was feeling much more relaxed. “Oh, very well,” she said and whistled for Griffon. When her mabari came, she fed him a piece of meat and then told him to go get Alistair and Zevran. Knowing how much he liked Sten she very firmly told him only Alistair and Zevran were to come. He whined, but bounded off to do her bidding.

Starr prepared the dessert for later. Over the still warm rounds she had baked earlier, she shaved slivers of bitter chocolate. While they started to melt, she picked up a pot of honey she’d been heating and dribbled it so the chocolate would mix with the sweet honey. Finally, she added crushed nuts to some and chopped dried fruit to others and put the tray aside. “There, I’m all done except for the cleanup. And I have a question, who is best with hair?”

“You’re not thinking of cutting your hair, are you?” Alistair’s voice rumbled out of the darkness as he and Zevran approached. “It’s already perfect.”

“Do you want some of this food or not?” Starr asked quickly, secretly pleased at the comment. Elissa chortled at the alacrity with which the men sat down.

“Leliana prevailed upon me not to punish you for Sten’s misdeeds. So you can each fix a plate to take with you, unless you prefer Alistair’s cooking, of course.”

“What? We are not allowed to share your company as we dine? You are too cruel, my dear Warden. Or is this a way for you to further show your displeasure to our large friend over there, hmm? Alistair and I tried to teach him the error of his ways, but I fear we did not progress. With five such lovely examples of womanhood before him I do not see how he could make the statements he did.” Zevran quickly and daintily piled a plate with the delicious food and a honey-chocolate confection. He did not want to give the Warden a chance to change her mind.

Alistair was just as quick, though not at all dainty as he did the same. “I think you can no longer call me an idiot. I recognize beautiful women when I see them.” His comment was general, but his eyes were only on Starr. In the flickering light of the fire, he couldn’t tell she was blushing.

“At least for tonight,” Morrigan responded drily. “Now, off you go. It can’t be girls’ night if you stay. Unless you would like me to change your status?”

“You would interfere with the masculine perfection in front of you? Alistair is such a prime example of the strong warrior and I the lithe sensuous rogue of many a woman’s dreams.” Zevran spoke in tones of mock outrage, but he and Alistair wasted no time in standing and walking away with their bounty.

Starr’s eyes followed Alistair as he strode into the darkness. It took several attempts before Leliana succeeded in getting her attention. “What? Oh, yes,” she flushed redder than the flames as Leliana and Elissa giggled, Wynne chuckled indulgently and Morrigan rolled her eyes. “I like wearing my hair loose sometimes, but it can get in the way. Elissa said doing hair was part of girls’ night so I thought one of you might have some ideas?”

“Perhaps some thin braids at the front which we could work together in the back? Most of your hair would be still be loose and you should be able to sleep in them and wash your hair, at least for a few days.” Leliana was eager to get started.

“That sounds interesting,” Starr agreed to her suggestion and brought out brush and combs so the redhead could get started.

“I suppose it only fair that the rest of us clean up. It shouldn’t take long with three of us.” With that, Elissa stood up and gathered up many of the dirty dishes. Wynne and Morrigan followed suit with differing degrees of enthusiasm.

Leliana waited until they were out of sight and she had started braiding Starr’s hair before speaking. “He is very handsome, is he not? And strong.”

Starr pretended to misunderstand, “Zevran? Yes, I suppose he is handsome, though agile comes to mind more than strong.”

“You do not fool me. You know I meant Alistair. I saw the way your eyes followed him earlier. When we were in Denerim more than one young woman tried to get his attention, but I don’t think he noticed. He is also very patient,” Leliana probed gently.

“I, I know. But I’m afraid. What if I’m wrong, what if he realizes that he doesn’t want to be with me? What if I hurt him?”

“There are no guarantees, but neither of you are cruel. And aren’t you both hurting now? Sometimes you have to risk everything or you can end up living a life of regrets and what-ifs. If you know you don’t love him, then you need to tell him so he can move on.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Starr asked quietly.

Leliana stilled, and then resumed braiding, “Once. It was glorious, I never felt more alive. Unfortunately for me, my feelings were not returned in the same way. It did not end well. My . . . partner was not the person I thought. I hope that one day I can find someone special who truly feels the same about me. You are fortunate in that you already know the type of person Alistair is. Even if it turns out to not be forever, to love and be loved is something precious.” She continued with her braiding, humming as Starr thought about what she said.

Noises in the dark announced the arrival of the remaining women. “So,” Elissa asked, “What are we talking about now?”

“Describe the perfect man,” Leliana answered, “the first word that comes to mind.”

“Silent,” said Elissa, and everybody laughed knowingly. Soon they were all shouting out different traits, even Wynne.

“Kind.”

“Dangerous.”

“Funny.”

“Brave.”

“Confident.”

“Inventive.”

“Honorable.”

“Strong.”

“Sexy.”

“Adventurous.”

“Obedient.”

“Handsome.”

“Interesting.”

“Kinky.”

Starr started giggling. Elissa was doubled over, “Obedient and kinky, Wynne? You know Alistair thinks of you as the grandmotherly type. He would be shocked.”

Wynne sniffed and tartly responded, “I cannot be responsible for his thoughts. I have been part of the Circle for a long time. As extensive and interesting as the library is, books can only take up so much of one’s time. Exercise is important, too.” Morrigan couldn’t help it, she howled. Leliana had tears running down her face from laughing so hard. She even had to stop braiding Starr’s hair.

When the laughter died down to chuckles, by unspoken and unanimous decision they reached for the honey-chocolate rounds. Instead of laughter, the night was filled with moans of delight. On the other side of camp, where Alistair and Zevran were making desultory conversation and watching the women from a distance, the sounds caused the two men to sit up and look at each other with wide eyes. Zevran shook his head, “My friend, I think some mysteries of women should remain just that.” He stood and made his way to his tent. Alistair crawled into his own bedroll, images of Starr moaning delightedly following him into the Fade.


	33. Progress, of a Sort

The next morning Starr wasn’t in her tent. Alistair started the coffee and then went looking for her. He didn’t have to look for long; she was at Morrigan’s fire, sleeping on the ground next to Leliana. The redhead had her arm over her waist and was snuggled against her. Alistair envied the bard in that moment. Elissa was just waking up, Morrigan and Wynne were elsewhere. Elissa nodded somewhat grumpily at Alistair and began stretching out the kinks. Alistair stared down at Starr for a minute, just drinking in her beauty and the peace on her face. He let his fingertips caress her cheeks as he whispered for her to wake up. Starr’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily before covering her mouth as she yawned. Behind her, Leliana stirred and muttered, “Just five more minutes, maybe ten?”

Biting back a giggle, Starr slowly sat up, gently moving so as not to disturb the redhead any more than she had to. She looked around the site to find her belongings when she felt Alistair’s fingers tracing her new braids. She looked at him, curious about his reaction. “Beautiful,” he whispered, “just beautiful.” He cleared his throat before adding, “I started some coffee, let me help you with your things.” Together they quickly gathered everything, leaving behind a few of the remaining honey-chocolate rounds. Alistair was hungry, and quickly stuffed one into his mouth before his stomach could growl too loudly.

“Come on, let’s get you a proper breakfast before you wake the dead,” Starr whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. Alistair just nodded; his mouth was too full to do anything else.

Zevran was sipping coffee as they approached. “Ah, the celestial Starr returns. With lovely braids in her beautiful hair.” Starr smiled in greeting and started to prepare breakfast. “Your coffee has improved, Alistair, watching my comely cousin closely as she works has definitely been to your benefit.” He just snorted when the templar grinned in agreement. “Whatever our leader was hoping for, I can only say that our large friend is not in the best of moods.”

 “I’m all aquiver,” Starr remarked sarcastically.

“That’s my job,” Alistair rumbled in her ear from behind her as he lightly stroked her arm. She shivered in reaction, sheer lust catching her unaware as she leaned back into him, her body unconsciously seeking his the way a flower seeks the warmth of the sun. His hands fell to her waist, thumbs tracing lazy circles on her midriff, “I missed you last night,” he admitted against her hair.

What might have happened next is unknown, the mood broken by Sten’s arrival and loud grumbling. Blushing, Starr straightened and busied herself with breakfast, refusing to look at Alistair. Pleased as well as frustrated, Alistair retreated and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee a sympathetic and amused Zevran extended to him. Soon all of their party was eating breakfast.

They made good time. By midmorning, they were already entering the foothills leading to the mountains where Haven lay. At Starr’s suggestion, they kept watch for game and any signs of nuts or fruit. She wasn’t sure what might be available by the time they reached the mountains. Even though Sten growled in irritation, she said they might want to take a day to hunt and gather as much as they could. Elissa agreed to think about it. Not one of the women paid attention to the Qunari. For his part, he appeared not to notice they were ignoring him.

After trudging a few more miles, Alistair fell into step beside Starr. “So, did you have fun last night? We could hear the laughter. And thank you for sharing some of your dinner, it was really good.”

“You need to thank Elissa for that, and Leliana. I’m glad you liked it. I have some of the crunchies if you want; I wanted to see if they would keep.” She took a bag from the small pack at her waist. She looked inside and sighed, “I was afraid of this, most of them are broken, some are just crumbs.” She took a piece to taste and handed him the bag. Not one to care for ceremony where food was concerned, Alistair took the bag and just poured some into his mouth before handing it back to her.

Before Starr could take it, Elissa swooped in and grabbed it. She looked at Starr accusingly, “you never said you had leftover crunchies.” She looked inside, “oh, I guess you don’t.” she repeated Alistair’s actions and this time the bag actually made it back to Starr. “Not as good as last night, but not bad,” was her verdict before she bounded off.

“Do Grey Wardens also get a special ability to sense food as well as darkspawn?” Starr asked rhetorically. “And yes, I had fun last night. It was the first time I’ve ever been part of a girls’ night. Is it wrong to hope Sten gives us another opportunity?” she half-laughed as she asked the question.

“So, what do you do at one of these things? Other than hair and eat and drink, that is.” Alistair was truly curious, and he could not resist briefly touching her new braids.

Starr flushed when she thought of some of the conversations from the previous evening. “We talked, about different things. Nothing special. Some of it was just silly.” Leliana and Zevran had caught up to them. Starr caught the bard’s eye and finished with. “Let’s just say that what’s said at girls’ night stays at girls’ night.” Leliana nodded in agreement.

Alistair thought about pursuing the matter, and then decided maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea. “I’m glad you didn’t cut your hair,” he said instead.

“As am I bellissima, it suits you.” And if Zevran entertained thoughts of all that hair cascading over him, he kept them to himself. Nor would he have been surprised to know that the templar had similar thoughts.

“That may be true, certainly not many women are fortunate to have hair that looks so nice and vibrant when it is long. Too often, it can look flat or even stringy, and your hair is an unusual color. In Orlais, there are many who would offer you a great deal of coin for your hair so that they could use it themselves. But I am curious, does it not get heavy?” Leliana asked.

“I, I never really thought about it before. Maybe,” Starr conceded. She looked down at the ground, her eyes far away, “This may sound silly, but I feel like cutting my hair would be cutting a connection with my parents. Sometimes I miss them so much and when I brush my hair I can pretend it’s my father brushing it as we listen to Mom telling a story before bed.”

Alistair briefly grasped her hand and squeezed as Leliana responded, “Not silly at all. I think it’s sweet and speaks well of them. So, we won’t cut your hair or if you change your mind, we won’t cut it above the waist. You will still have the length but less weight.” They walked on a few minutes in silence. Zevran pondered about family, Alistair thought about Starr, Leliana about many things. It was Leliana who spoke next, “Starr, why does the Lady Isolde dislike you? I understand about Alistair even though she is wrong and her actions were cruel. Surely your childhood friendship would not be enough reason?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Elissa called back. Their group had drawn closer together.

“I also,” Wynne added.

“It is amazing to me that any could dislike you, bellissima,” Zevran tsked at the very thought.

Flustered, Starr shook her head and finally admitted, “I once called her a hippercritter.” Before they could ask her what a hippercritter was, she hurried on. “I meant to say hypocrite, but I had just learned the word. Well, sort of learned the word. This was a few months after you left, Stair, and I was still angry. We went to the Chantry almost every Sunday and she did too. One morning the Revered Mother spoke about the importance of children, and how they were to be treasured. She said other stuff too, but that’s what I remember. Anyway, afterwards the adults always spent time talking and the children usually played. This time I went over to Isolde and asked her if she believed what the Revered Mother talked about. She said, ‘But of course, the Revered Mother always speaks wisely and it behooves us to follow her words.’ Something like that. I remember putting my hands on my hips and asking her if that didn’t make her a hippercritter because she sure wasn’t at all nice to my friend Alistair.”

“What happened then?” Alistair was touched that she had stood up for him, even after he was gone.

“Her face got funny. I thought she was going to slap me, but she didn’t. Maybe because there were so many people around. Some of them heard me. My parents came over and apologized for me, said I just missed my friend and then pulled me away. They didn’t get mad at me for what I said. Just that it was rude for me to have said it at all. I didn’t understand at the time. Luckily for all of us Isolde didn’t know about what I had already done.”

“Oh, what did you do, my clever cousin?” Zevran pretended he didn’t know what was coming. Looking sideways at Alistair, he saw the templar _trying_ to do the same. Luckily, Starr didn’t notice.

Starr sighed. “It wasn’t very nice. I almost wish I could be ashamed, but I’m not. Do you remember how Arl Eamon used to bring her presents whenever he went to Denerim and was gone a long time?” Alistair nodded; remembering that he used to wish Eamon would bring him something. “Well, this time he brought back some hair ribbons. Oh Leliana, you would have loved them. They were silk and velvet; each one had silver or gilt embroidery and was studded with tiny gemstones. I don’t know if she liked them, but I thought they were wonderful.”

“Did you steal them?” Leliana couldn’t help asking. Morrigan was also curious, remembering a mirror she herself had stolen as a child.

“Not . . . exactly. At least, not in the way you mean. I did sneak into the castle, all the hiding from Isolde we used to do came in handy. I found the ribbons, put them in my pocket, and snuck out. Nobody caught me. That night, after I went to bed, I climbed out the window and headed over to Murdock’s family’s farm. I don’t know if you remember, Stair, but they had this huge sow called Petunia. Well, I climbed into the pen and tied the ribbons around Petunia’s ears, tail and neck. Then I opened the gate and shooed her out. Any time Petunia escaped, she would head straight for the flowers in front of the Chantry. All I had to do was get back to my room and wait for morning. We always got up early, so it was easy to head to the town square and see what was going on. I heard a lot of laughter, people were pointing at Petunia, calling out ‘who’s a pretty girl’ and ‘let’s go have a drink, beautiful.’

What a sight she was, lying contentedly under the chanter’s board with a flower sticking out of her mouth. Somebody must have already gone for Murdock and Isolde, because they showed up shortly after I got there, Teagan was with Isolde (Eamon was somewhere else in the arling). I made sure to stay in the background. Murdock was dumbfounded, but Isolde’s reaction was priceless. Her face turned this lovely plum color and her mouth kept opening and closing like a fish. Finally she screeched, her accent thicker than normal, ‘Thees, thees swine has misappropriated my ribbons! Tea-gan, you must do something!’ Murdock looked at Teagan, ‘Does she really believe the _pig_ stole her hair ribbons?’” Alistair’s shoulders were shaking with the force of his laughter; he could so readily picture the scene. Sten looked disapproving, but the rest were laughing, though none as hard as Alistair.

“Isoldebitch didn’t give Teagan a chance to answer. ‘It matters not who did this foul act; I demand retribution. They are ruined; no ribbon worn by a filthy swine will touch me. You must take care of this, Teagan.’ She stalked off, other villagers getting out of her way in order not to be run down by a crazed Orlesian noblewoman. No offense, Leliana. Teagan and Murdock approached Petunia. It’s not easy to move a grown pig, especially one as large as Petunia. She only twitched when they removed the ribbons, though. It was a lot harder to get her moving. Teagan was left with a handful of ribbons and no clue what to do with them.” Starr chuckled. She could still see that scene clearly in her memory.

“And nobody suspected you had anything to do with it?” Elissa wanted to know.

Starr looked up at the sky before answering. “Well, I rather think Teagan guessed. He saw me in the crowd and I _thought_ he kind of winked. After Murdock left with Petunia, he talked to the people still in the area and eventually got round to me. He sat down next to me on the wall. ‘So, that was quite some excitement this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.’ I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just said it was pretty funny. ‘Yes, I suppose it was, and now I have these ribbons that nobody in the village can use or Isolde will suspect them of the crime. We can’t have innocents being accused, can we?’ I honestly hadn’t thought about it, but he was right. I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. I looked at them, even with the splashes of mud and dust, they were still really pretty. I asked him what he was going to do. He looked where Petunia had been, ‘I’ll give them to the Revered Mother. After they’re washed, maybe she can sell them and keep the proceeds. I think, though, you should have a souvenir.’ The other villagers had wandered off and it was just the two of us. Teagan pulled out a blue ribbon from the tangle and gave it to me. ‘You can’t wear it,’ he warned me. ‘The important thing is that nothing like this should ever happen again. I’m sure you understand.’ I always think that was his way of telling me he guessed and warning me not to do it again.”

Alistair put his arm around Starr’s shoulders, “Thanks for standing up for me. I wish I could have seen Isolde’s face when she saw Petunia. Maybe I’ll give Isolde a bouquet of petunias when we get back to Redcliffe.” Alistair teased. “Teagan has a high opinion of you. He said as much to Isolde. You know, she wasn’t too pleased when Teagan suggested he might court you.”

“He didn’t! He can’t do that,” Starr protested, moving away and thinking of Bella. “He’s never been more than a friend.”

“Hey, what’s wrong? I don’t think he really meant it, he was defending you to her and he was angry. He wanted to annoy her and it worked. He thinks very highly of you, but that’s all.” Alistair was surprised Starr was so distressed.

Starr relaxed. “That’s okay, then.” She snickered, “I bet Isolde walked off in a huff.”

Alistair laughed, “After Teagan told her to go away and not annoy anybody. I think she cursed him, but it was in Orlesian.”

They walked along in silence for a few more miles, each lost in their own thoughts. Once or twice, she looked at him and started to ask him something, and then stopped. “Ye-es,” he drawled, “did you want to say something?”

“Do you think you could give me templar training?”

Surprised, he considered it. Starr was a rogue, but she did have some warrior abilities. “We could try. Normally only a warrior would be able to learn, but you’re more than just a rogue. Even if you aren’t able to learn the skills the training itself can’t hurt. Perhaps you could help me with my archery? Sometimes it would help to at least thin their ranks before we get to them or the darkspawn get to us,” he was pleased that she suggested something that would require them to spend more time together.

“Deal,” Starr answered. Maybe she could finally find answers to her questions if they spent more time together away from the others. And if she had been able to smite that one emissary, he wouldn’t have been hurt. 


	34. The Waterfall

Alistair was frustrated on many levels. He loved Starr with every fiber of his being, but she still kept shying away from anything resembling romance. She was happy to be with him as long as they were just friends, but if he told her that she was beautiful or special, or tried to hold her hand she would make excuses or just move away. She was never mean or rude; she did so quietly and tried not to draw any attention to her actions in order to spare Alistair’s feelings or keep the others from teasing him.  He felt he had achieved a small victory when she came out of her tent one morning wearing the hair ribbons he gave to her, but as the days passed, he began to wonder.

He ached to be with her, and he wasn’t sure if his desires or fantasies would ever be fulfilled. He knew she loved him as much as he loved her, he knew her too well for her to be able to hide it. She wouldn’t admit it, though; he thought she was too scared and not ready to take a chance. His frustration was even affecting his sleep, how long before it affected his concentration during battle? Nor could he take Zevran up on his offer or visit a brothel. Even if he could be convinced for his own sake, he knew Starr would use it as confirmation that she was right. Starr hesitated to accept that he found her beautiful, that her scars didn’t make her unworthy or less a woman. He found it incredible that she survived and grew into the wonderful woman she was. He didn’t know what else he could do. He would continue to be patient, but it was getting harder. Their daily training sessions were becoming an addictive torture.

To add to his discomfort, he was cold and dirty. He and Zevran had ploughed through mud looking for firewood and of course he slipped and mud oozed into his boots. The Warden told them about a stream with a waterfall just a small distance from camp. He knew the water would be cold here in the mountains, but he didn’t care. He was tired and he wanted to get out of his dirty armor. Zevran wasn’t far behind, so when he fell he splattered the Antivan with mud. Trudging along lost in his misery it took a moment before he heard the stream gurgling ahead of him. He started taking off his gauntlets and quickened his pace, eager to wash off the mud and hopefully some of his frustration. He stopped so suddenly that Zevran nearly bumped into him. Zevran was about to say something but the look on Alistair’s face stopped him. It was a look of reverence, wonder and desire. Zevran looked ahead to see what caused that look to appear on Alistair’s face.

Standing in the waterfall was Starr, back to the rocks, arms and face raised to the moonbeams, eyes closed. Alistair at first couldn’t believe what he was seeing; the scene was so incredibly beautiful and unreal, a delicate study in silver and crystal and pearl. The light reflected off her silver-blonde hair, water droplets on her pale skin looked like diamonds, you could almost believe the moon and stars themselves had come down to play in the water with a goddess, such as might be described in an old tale of ancient times. He forgot to breathe. She brought her hair forward and started combing her fingers through the river of silver. Then, as if in a trance, he moved forward, dropping his gloves. He quickened his stride and strode directly to Starr, ignoring the water coming over the tops of his boots. Starr opened her eyes when she heard him coming. She watched him, unmoving, eyes wide and lips parted as he came closer.

Alistair put his hands on either side of her face, his thumbs unconsciously caressing her checks, and leaned his forehead to hers. “Please don’t send me away again,” he whispered. Then he kissed her, barely brushing her lips with his. Starr looked into his eyes and saw the love and desire warring for pride of place with reverence and respect. Finally, she accepted everything Alistair and her own heart had been saying to her and felt free to let him know how she felt. She leaned into him and poured everything she felt into the kiss. All the tension and frustration he’d been feeling washed away in the water, replaced by a much more welcome one. Alistair wrapped his arms around Starr and held on tight as they devoured each other.

Zevran, completely forgotten by Alistair, had been looking on with approval and a bit of envy. He smiled wistfully and murmured, “Be happy, my friends. It’s about time.” Just then, Fen padded over to him, rumbling. Zevran looked down at him, “You are right, we should go, I think they can manage for themselves now. However, _I_ still need to wash. Come let us go downstream and find someplace where I can do so.” Together, they left the lovers to do what they would.

“Maker’s breath, you are so beautiful, but I need to get out of this armor before I hurt you. Or I drown; drowning is bad, even worse than swooping.” With that, Alistair grabbed her hands and pulled her to shore as she laughed. As soon as they reached the shore, she began helping him remove his armor, still laughing. She made a big show of dumping water and mud out of his boots. “Oh, you’re laughing at me, you’ve been torturing me for weeks and now you laugh at me. I am so going to get you back.” On that note, he lunged at her and began tickling her ribs. She laughed and giggled until she was helpless, she stopped laughing when he closed his mouth over her breast, grazing her nipple with his teeth. She gasped as he nibbled and sucked. His hands stopped tickling and began roaming and caressing, up to her other breast to lightly pinch and play with her nipple and back down her side and hips, down her leg and between her thighs. She arched her back, opening herself to him even more. He took full advantage.

“Stair!” she gasped. Breathing hard she looked up at him; he returned her gaze, his hazel eyes burning with heat. Feeling overwhelmed she pushed up at him until he rolled onto his back gripping her hips and bringing her with him. She sat up and looked down at him, bracing her hands on his chest. She massaged and rubbed his chest, brushing over his nipples with her fingertips, fascinated to see them stand erect. He brought his hands up to her breasts and explored, caressing and squeezing. The calluses on his hands created a seductive friction. He struggled to maintain control over himself. He didn’t want to push her too fast. She bent over, her hair lightly tickling him and nipped at his neck. She bit his earlobe and sucked, nearly breaking his control, before feathering kisses across his face, ending with his lips. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, brought his hands up to her head, and tangled them in her hair. She breathed out his name, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered and then began dancing tongue to tongue with him. He loosened his hands from her hair and moved them back down to her hips. He grabbed her wonderful rear and began gently rocking her over his erection.

She started to panic and Alistair relaxed his grip. With one hand, he brushed her hair out of her face and looked into her eyes. “It’s your choice, Starr. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want. I’m nervous, too. You know I’ve never done this before. I don’t want to hurt you or push you into anything. Just give me a minute to catch my breath and we’ll go. I love you, and I can wait until you’re ready.”

Looking into his eyes steadied Starr. “Stair, how did I get so lucky? I’m just scared. I don’t want to do something wrong.”

“Oh, Starr, you couldn’t do anything wrong if you tried. We’ll figure it out as we go.” Remembering some advice Zevran gave him weeks ago, he continued, “Why don’t you take the lead? Anything you do, I’ll know I can do in return. Don’t be afraid to tell me if I do something you don’t like. I want to please you; I need to count on you to talk to me.” He looked up at her, waiting.

Starr blushed, hearing such frankness from Alistair was unexpected, but she was glad one of them was capable of starting this conversation. She could tell that his erection was not as insistent as it had been. She rather missed the feeling. Before leaving Redcliffe, she had confided her worries to Bella. Bella told her that if she wanted to be with Alistair, or anybody else, she needed to be able to talk to them about her concerns, likes and dislikes, even fantasies. Sanga had said the same. If a person were worth being with, they would be understanding and would reciprocate. She wondered if Alistair had any idea what a great gift he was giving her, especially since his experience was limited to nonexistent. All these thoughts chased through her mind in bare seconds as she looked down at him, at the love and desire she saw in his eyes. She relaxed and made her decision. She smiled at him and he was dazzled. “Stair, I want you. I want to feel your _arms_ around me, I want to _explore_ every inch of you, I want to be _overwhelmed_ by you and I _want_ to overwhelm you. I love you with every particle of my soul.” She leaned down and kissed him deeply, sliding her tongue into his mouth and dancing her fingers across his chest and down to his groin. She fondled his manhood, tentatively at first then with more confidence as he hoarsely gasped for more as he grew harder.

Relief and desire raged through Alistair as he circled her with his arms. His hands grazed over her back, coming to rest on her rear once more where they kneaded and caressed the soft flesh. She rubbed against him, seeking. Her whimpers of desire when he lightly scratched her raced through him like lightning. He rolled them over again, keeping one knee between her legs and began kissing her face and neck. He lightly bit her where her neck met her shoulder, then kissed and sucked, making her squirm. His hands fondled her breasts and caressed her stomach. As he moved up to her ears, his hand moved down to between her legs. He began fondling her ear with his tongue as he began exploring and fondling her ‘love nub.’ His erection was rubbing against her leg, a promise of what was to come. When he pulled her earlobe into his mouth to suck, he slid his hand to her passage and found it damp.

Starr cried his name, urging him on. He suckled harder on her ear and slid two fingers into her and back out, in and out again and again until he felt a rush of liquid. Moving, he positioned himself between her legs and began kissing her. He raised himself and let his erection rest at her entrance for a moment, teasing both of them. Then he began pushing into Starr and she brought her legs up and around him, tightening. Once he was all the way in, he paused to savor the heat and tightness, and to let her get used to him. Then he started to rock and pull himself almost out before pushing back in. Together they found their rhythm.

Starr couldn’t believe what was happening. She felt so wonderful, transported out of her body into a haze of pleasure. It was scary and exciting, she couldn’t breathe, she was intoxicated. The sense of Alistair was all around her, it filled her, it was comforting and exhilarating. She felt her body tingling with pleasure, the pleasure growing until it was almost painful. When her release came she screamed, “Stair, I love you!” though it came out as a strangled whisper.

When Starr tightened around him in her release, Alistair couldn’t hold back anymore and buried himself deep inside her, finding his own. His seed, hot and thick gushed into her. Breathless, he continued stroking back and forth within her as the tremors eased. He collapsed upon her, nuzzling her neck as his hand lazily stroked her breast. “Wow,” was all he could manage to murmur. Starr was limp, except for her arms resting around him, lightly tracing circles on his back and in his hair. They stayed like that for several minutes.

Finally, he lifted himself up and looked down at her. He saw her lips bruised and swollen from his kisses, he saw the other marks he had put on her body. Concerned, he looked at her face to see her watching him through half-lidded eyes, their color one he had never seen before, a soft purple. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, his own eyes dark with concern.

Starr smiled contentedly and the purple of her eyes deepened and brightened, “Stair, please believe me when I tell you I have never felt better. _Ever_.” She stretched, and as her body moved against his, he felt his manhood stirring again. “I feel so stupid for putting you off for so long and for being such a coward. Thank you for being so patient with me,” she said earnestly.

“Trust me, it was worth the wait. Starr, I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this. Thank you. Thank you for being my friend all these years, and thank you for loving me now.” He brushed her hair away from her face and traced her features with his eyes. He smiled, lovingly, “I would like to stay like this forever, just the two of us, but I guess we should head back to camp. Give me a minute to wash up.” With that, he reluctantly removed himself and stood up, making his way to the waterfall.

Realizing he wasn’t the only one who needed to wash again, Starr grabbed her soap and followed him in. Coming up behind him she lazily began soaping his back. She worked her way down, caressing those firm cheeks of his and causing him to groan before moving to his legs. When she worked her way back up and wrapped her arms around him to soap his chest, he turned. He tilted her chin so she was looking at him, “Have I told you I love you? That I think you are the most beautiful woman in Thedas?” Watching her blush, he kissed her deeply. He grabbed the soap from her hands and began soaping her breasts, paying special attention to her nipples before reaching down and around to her back and rear. He lathered her up thoroughly, between her cheeks and around her rear passage before moving to between her legs in front. When he slipped slick fingers into her, her knees buckled and she bit back a moan.

When he bent down and took her breast into his mouth, she was nearly undone. The cold water replaced by heat and the actions of tongue and teeth caused her to cry out. Alistair merely moved to the other breast, not giving her a chance to recover. He knelt and began trailing kisses down her abdomen, stopping at her bellybutton. She had no idea she was so sensitive there until she felt the rasp of his stubble against her skin as he tongued her navel. When he scraped the edges with his teeth, she blindly reached out until she was bracing herself against the rock wall. His warm mouth continued its downward path until he could part the folds of skin hiding her nub with his tongue. He very gently bit before engulfing it. As he sucked and tongued, his fingers were dancing inside her. The tension building up threatened to consume her. She felt bereft when he removed his fingers and his hands moved to her rear, only to scream when he brought her to his mouth and his tongue replaced his fingers. She could feel him smile against her.

Alistair wasn’t done yet. Starr wasn’t the only one aching. When he stood, he picked her up with him. Turning, he braced her against the wall of the waterfall before he brought her down onto his erection and entered her with one hard almost brutal motion. Starr wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed, bringing him even further in. He buried so deep he was touching her womb; Starr felt he was touching her soul and nothing had ever felt so glorious. Alistair started thrusting, hard and fast and deep, his fingers digging into her glorious ass as he strove to hold on. He felt her nails scratching his back as she fought to stay with him, bind them closer together. With a hoarse shout, he came and she followed, biting his shoulder with the intensity of her feelings.

Slowly, as their breathing softened they loosened their grip on each other. He let her down, still inside her, until her feet were touching the streambed. Barely moving, they swayed together; their murmurs lost in the sound of the water and finished washing up. They hardly had any strength left as they got ready to go back to camp. Slowly they got dressed, exchanging shy smiles when their eyes met. Starr helped him buckle his armor, and if she let her hands briefly caress him as she did so he wasn’t going to complain.

“Stair, can I ask you something?” her face was red and she wouldn’t look at him directly. He nodded, intrigued, and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. Rubbing her cheek against his, Starr spoke, “Tonight, would you help me brush my hair? I prefer brushing it thoroughly before I go to sleep, it gets less tangled.” She held her breath as she waited for his reply.

He half-closed his eyes and smiled, “Is that your way of asking me into your tent?” She blushed and nodded. “Then I would be honored, milady.” He offered her his arm and she took it. Together they made their way to camp. Fen joined them on the way. When he saw Fen, Alistair remembered that Zevran had been with him. His face burned as he wondered what he might have seen. Fortunately for him, when they got back it looked like Zevran had been in camp for quite a while. He really didn’t want to have to explain to Starr that Zevran might have been watching them.


	35. Haven is no Sanctuary

They were nearing Haven. Starr had been right; there was very little game to be had. Bitter cold and icy winds were in abundance, however. The steep slope was more than a little slippery. Elissa looked at her friend and smiled. Even in this weather, she didn’t think she had ever seen two people so happy to be together as Alistair and his Starr. The first night Alistair joined Starr in her tent, all she could think was that it was about damned time. She laughed to herself when she thought of the following night, and their many attempts to combine their two tents in order to give them more space before they finally succeeded. Fortunately, the wolf seemed to accept the man for now. “So,” she said, the words freezing in the air between them, “do you still like the feeling of the air against your skin?”

“It’s . . . bracing,” Starr stubbornly gasped. Then she yelped and jumped a mile in the sky when the cold metal fingers of Alistair’s gauntlets pressed against her back. “Maker and Creators! What are you trying to do to me?” she yelled at him, shivering.

Alistair looked at her, his face a picture of innocence, “What? I thought you were about to slip and didn’t want you to fall.” Elissa looked closely at him and bit her lip when he winked at her when Starr wasn’t looking.

“Humph,” was all Starr said suspiciously. She stalked ahead to do some scouting and get away from Alistair’s cold metal gloves.

“Alistair, that wasn’t very kind of you,” Elissa tried to be stern, but failed miserably.

He sighed, “I know. I’m a bad, bad man.” He shook his head, “I told her it was going to be cold in the mountains, but she disagreed and insisted that she can get to her weapons faster and easier in what she’s wearing. She can be . . . stubborn.”

Elissa smirked, “Ha! How hard did you try? Admit it Alistair, you like looking at her in her Dalish armor. You think nobody notices you watching the sway of her _fringe_?” She knew she was right when he blushed guiltily.

Luckily, for him, Starr came back with news. “We’re closer than we thought, unless there is another isolated village in the area. Not too far ahead, some crude steps have been added to the path. We should reach Haven well before nightfall.”

Elissa waited for Zevran and Griffon to catch up to them. The elf was so bundled she could only see his eyes, yet he still managed to move like a shadow. “Brrr, I thought the rest of Ferelden was cold until we came to these mountains. Let us hope we can finish our business in this forsaken area quickly. Even my comely cousin is turning blue, which may be an attractive color on her but not desirous as a skin tone.”

“We’re close. Lead the way, Starr,” a sidelong glance at Alistair showed him indeed watching Starr’s _fringe_. She smiled but kept any further comments to herself.

The stairs did lead to Haven. They were a narrow path ending in a small clearing with an armed guard. Well behind him, she could see some buildings and a steep slope, presumably leading to more of the village.

“What are you doing here in Haven? You have no business here.” Elissa quickly explained they did have business in Haven; they were looking for Brother Genitivi. The guard replied, “I would have been told,” and “never heard of him.” Finally, “if you must, you can shop at the village store before leaving.” Starr looked back once, to see him watching them as they left. She felt colder than ever.

Once out of the guard’s sight, they explored a little. Encountering a little boy proved creepy rather than enlightening, the way he was holding onto a finger bone was disturbing. It was a relief to talk to the merchant; he was only unfriendly and oddly reluctant to do business. While Elissa talked to him, Starr sat down on a chest she found in a corner and finally opened a small roll she had carried with her into the mountains. She touched the rose she wore around her neck as she held the unrolled furs in her lap. Her mind went back to the morning Alistair gave it to her. It was the third morning after they began sharing a tent.

_It was raining and she needed to start coffee. Sighing, she got dressed and tried not to disturb Alistair but he was awake. Before she could leave the tent, he stopped her. He was sitting up, pulled her back into his arms, and showed her something he was holding in his hands. “Here, do you know what this is?”_

_“The latest in your search for the perfect weapon against the darkspawn?” she teased._

_“Why yes! Take that, evil darkspawn, as I flog you with tasteful floral arrangements! Or, it could just be a rose and I want you to have it. It reminds me of you.”_

_“I’m a gentle flower?”_

_He grinned slightly, “Sometimes, yes. But that’s not why; I found it in a deserted corner of the Lothering Chantry garden. The bush was all dry and gnarled, yet one perfect bloom managed to, not just survive but thrive. I remember wondering how something so beautiful could be here surrounded by all this despair and destruction. I couldn’t leave it to be destroyed by darkspawn. I’ve complained a lot, especially before Redcliffe, but you’ve had a much harder time than I have and not only survived but triumphed. You are this rose, Starr. It’s enchanted, as am I.” Alistair held it out to her, his heart in his eyes._

_Her own eyes glistening, she took it, “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much you’ve given me, Stair. Thank you.” She put her hand on his face and leaned forward, whispering, “I love you so much.” When their lips touched, passion was muted, taking second place to an overwhelming tenderness. To Starr, it was one of life’s rare perfect moments. She’d been wearing it ever since._

Alistair came towards her as she unrolled one long tube of fur. “What’s this? If you had furs, why didn’t you put them on?”

Starr blushed and refused to say anything. She pointed her foot and began slipping the tube of fur over her boot. Alistair knelt down in front of her and strong hands joined hers as she pulled it up her leg and high on her thigh. Her flesh quivered when cool metal fingers gently stroked her skin before smoothing the fur over it. She reached for a leather cord and began wrapping it around the fur above her knee, Alistair holding it in place for her. Together they repeated the process on the other leg. Starr put aside her bow and quiver, and stood up with the last item, a fur vest. Alistair stood also, but remained close rather than move back. Instead, he reached around her and held her hair and scabbard away from her back as she shrugged it on. He pulled it closed in front and held the fur together. His body blocked her from view and with one finger caressing the top of her breasts he asked again, “Starr?”

Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the vest and began fastening it closed. “I didn’t want to hide your rose,” she finally admitted, feeling foolish. She looked up at him through her lashes. She saw a goofy grin and loving eyes. He stepped back and handed her weapons to her when she finished closing the vest. She glared at him, “one smart comment, Stair . . . and your gauntlets are still cold.”

He decided he really liked the look of her skin and hair against the dark fur. He had visions of her wearing nothing else. Leaning forward he whispered in her ear, “You didn’t think they were too cold a minute ago. Maybe I’ll wear them tonight if you promise to wear that fur and only the fur.” Starr couldn’t suppress a tremor at the thought and nodded her head ever so slightly. When she looked into his eyes again, they were hazel smoke. She gave him a slow, crooked smile.

Elissa was still bartering and trying to get information out of the merchant. Zevran was bored and watched the two lovers with interest. He admired Starr’s long legs before Alistair hid her from view. Chuckling, he remembered a conversation with the handsome young man a few days after finding Starr at the waterfall.

_They were gathering firewood again. Sometimes he thought Alistair volunteered just to avoid Morrigan’s caustic remarks. Anyway, they were alone and Zevran couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, Alistair, you and the lovely silver Starr have finally decided to, well shall we say further your relationship? Is it everything you expected? I can give you plenty of advice on tactics, positions, toys . . .”_

_He was startled when Alistair didn’t start stuttering but just gave him a big hug. “Thank you, Zev. You’ve been a good friend.” And he actually kissed the top of the elf’s head before ruffling his hair and whistling happily while he picked up more firewood. Zevran couldn’t have been more stunned if he saw the Archdemon in a flowered dress drinking tea with Queen Anora and planning a wedding._

_“Does this mean I no longer have to guard my gorgeous hair from your blade? You’ve forgiven me for Sarah and Alice? Perhaps you should send them flowers when we are next in Denerim.” Zevran grinned at the templar’s obvious good cheer._

_“Your hair is safe, at least for now. Flowers for Sarah and Alice, hmmm, not a bad idea,” he thought a minute. “No, not flowers, chocolate sauce maybe, hmmm . . .” And he wandered off thinking. Zevran shook his head and laughed. Alistair was like a young boy with a new toy, and what a toy he had. Or, he was making up for all those years of repression living in the Chantry. He wondered if he should be giving Starr some advice instead._

“. . . and you’re sure you’ve never heard of Brother Genitivi?” Elissa pressed the storekeeper. Zevran knew the man was hiding something, from what he could tell the entire town was one big secret. Sometimes he wondered if there was any hope at all of the Wardens accomplishing a task without any complications. Recent history certainly wasn’t promising. He sauntered over to Starr and Alistair.

“So, am I interrupting anything exciting?” he purred, noticing the flushed faces and almost touches. “No? Too bad. I see you are now better dressed against the chill, my lovely cousin. Those furs suit you; you have a barbaric elegance about you, a different edge to your exquisite beauty. Although I do not think the weather is the only chilling factor, do you?”

“Yes, I think I had a warmer welcome from Lady Isolde,” Alistair said sarcastically. He added in a singsong voice, “I think they aren’t telling us something.” Starr and Zevran nodded in agreement.

“Fen doesn’t like it here. Usually he enjoys cold weather, but not Haven. He’s sticking closer to me than usual; he senses something wrong about this place. And even Griffon is subdued.” Starr trailed her fingers along Fen’s back. He kept looking towards the back room, not quite whining. Starr looked over at Elissa; she appeared to be almost done with the merchant so she bent down and whispered to Fen, “Time to explore, my friend.” Fen moved like a shadow while the storekeeper’s attention was on the humans. They casually walked around the store, picking things up and putting them down again. When Fen howled Starr ran to the back. The merchant tried to stop her and was killed in a very brief fight with Alistair and Zevran.

The sight that met them when they all joined Fen and Starr was disturbing. Griffon whined and butted Elissa’s hand for comfort. On the floor, in a corner, lay the equipment and remains of a knight of Redcliffe. “Well, this answers some questions,” Elissa noted.

“And asks more,” added Alistair. Grim, they stood a moment in silence then proceeded to search the building. They took anything they thought might be useful as they looked for clues. As soon as they stepped outside, they were attacked. The villagers, even though there were some mages and soldiers among them were no match for the experienced group. Starting with the guard’s area, they systematically checked out each building before going to the next.

The dismembered body was explained, possibly, when they found an altar covered in blood in one of the houses. Zevran was somber when he spoke, “I have heard that some Crows make blood sacrifices before a large job. It gives them strange powers.”

“This needs to end,” Elissa’s voice was harsh and determined. They stepped outside and made their way further up the mountain, to the Chantry at the top of the village. Not without more resistance, of course. They could hear people singing inside. Elissa stared, her face grave. “We have no idea what we may be facing here. The guard said something about a Revered Father; the altar suggests we may find blood mages. Alistair, templar skills first, I think. Then weapons.”

“I’ve been teaching Starr, she’s pretty good at smiting. If I smite to the right and she to the left we should be fairly effective.” Elissa nodded. “Are you ready for your first smite in battle, my love?”

Starr took a deep breath and said yes. Zevran whispered to her, “How many more surprises do you have for us, my lovely cousin?” Starr grinned and shrugged.

With Elissa and Alistair in the lead, they entered the building. The scene that greeted them looked so harmless and prosaic. Substitute a Revered Mother for the Revered Father and it could almost be a typical Sunday in Lothering, until the members of this Chantry turned around. Suspicion and ill will were almost a tangible force. Revered Father Eirik greeted them, “You are guests to the village, but surely you understand that it is rude to interrupt. Never mind, we are done for the evening.”

“Enough!” Elissa and Alistair spoke in unison. Elissa continued, “We’ve seen your altars and the dead bodies of Redcliffe knights. This is no ordinary village.”

“And this is why we don’t like outsiders in Haven. You don’t understand and I don’t have to explain to _you._ I know you will bring war to our village unless we stop you, NOW.” Eirik’s voice was filled with religious fervor and righteous indignation as he issued the command to attack. Armed men poured out of some side rooms and the fight was on. Eirik tried to cast spells but the combined efforts of Alistair and Starr thwarted him. The armed men were only soldiers by comparison to the other villagers and thus easily dispatched.

“Warden,” Zevran had been wandering around and examining the inside of the Chantry. He stopped in front of one section of the stone wall. “Warden,” he repeated, “I do believe we have a secret door here. Well, not so secret anymore.” Interested, Elissa and the others came to look at the wall. Zevran began running his hands along a nearly invisible seam and the door slid open. “Voilà,” and got not further before they heard a groan. Weapons ready they entered the room and found an older man on the floor, obviously in great pain. Brother Genitivi was alive if not well.

After a quick examination and conference with the scholar, Elissa came to a decision. “Alistair, I want you, Griffon and Fen to go back to camp. Get Wynne, Leliana and Morrigan. You can tell them what we found on the way back. Sten, Fen and Griffon will guard the camp. Starr, do you think Fen could do some hunting while we’re in Haven? I don’t think we’re going to find anything up here.” Starr murmured to Fen and Elissa swore the wolf nodded his head in agreement. Starr looked to Elissa and indicated he would try. “Zevran and I will stay here with Brother Genitivi. Starr, I want you to keep lookout at the door. There could still be villagers out there. I don’t want any more surprises.”

Starr walked with Alistair to the door, their moods subdued by all they had found in Haven. Before Alistair could open the door, he pulled Starr into his arms. Starr wrapped her arms around his neck and turned her head, lips seeking his. Silently they promised each other to be careful before Alistair opened the door and stepped out with the four-legged members of their band. Fen looked back at Starr, gave a quick bark, and looked towards the templar and back at her before loping down the mountain. She smiled in acknowledgement and relief; Fen accepted Alistair as part of his pack and would look out for him accordingly.

She was warm enough inside the Chantry to open her fur vest, even though she didn’t take it off. While she was looking out the door and down the mountain, she was startled when arms snaked around her waist and an overly lascivious voice spoke, “Ah, such a shame for a beautiful woman to be alone. It seems I must remedy the situation immediately.” She chuckled and relaxed against Zevran. He loosened his embrace and they stood together side by side companionably looking for danger. “You seem happy, bellissima; love suits you and your warrior.”

“More than I ever thought possible, Zevran, more than I ever hoped.” She struggled to find the right words, “It still feels like a dream at times, maybe because on the road we are so isolated from everything else that is happening. The practicalities we face are pretty simple: eating, sleeping, and surviving.” She shrugged her shoulders and deliberately changed the subject. “Are you still willing to give me a tattoo? Because I’ve got some ideas, and I’d like to include a rose, if possible.”

“A rose like the one you are wearing perhaps?” Zevran asked as he held it in his hands for a moment. “I think that can be arranged.” Their conversation centered on tattoos, designs and application while they waited for Alistair.


	36. Reflections on Andraste

Starr was thinking about the days’ events and revelations as she set about the familiar task of preparing dinner. Wynne was able to heal Brother Genitivi enough for him to lead them to the temple, which he said held the Urn of Sacred Ashes. The healer opted to remain behind with the learned scholar near the entrance; she could keep an eye on him as well as watch for more villagers or cultists. Starr was awed at the size and dilapidated grandeur of the old building. Even the snow and ice coming in through holes in the walls and roof couldn’t diminish the sense of ancient reverence imbued in the temple. Leliana couldn’t help gasping, “This, this is incredible, and to think its presence has been kept secret all this time. We need to be careful. There are bound to be others here, whoever these people are they must be prepared to act in the event the villagers do not keep all away.”

They found the Urn; they had the Ashes, well a small pinch. They also found ancient scrolls, traps, dragons and wraiths in addition to many, many cultists. The temple opened deep into the mountains. Their search led them to the leaders of the cultists, or as they called themselves, the Disciples of Andraste. Starr was personally glad Elissa chose not to work with the leader, Father Kolgrim, and pour dragon’s blood into the Ashes. Maybe Morrigan and Zevran’s reasons to do so might have practical merit, but Starr didn’t trust this Kolgrim fellow. And if they were really ashes of Andraste, it felt disrespectful to destroy or alter them. Kolgrim had a lot of mages for them to contend with after Elissa refused his offer. Starr and Alistair had plenty of opportunity to develop a pattern and rhythm with their smites.

Then they just had to quietly get past the napping dragon. Talk to an ancient man? spirit? and pass a series of mental, physical and spiritual tests. Was it wrong of her to notice how attractive all her companions were when they were naked? She smiled when she thought of Alistair; he was so uncomfortable with all that nudity. If Zevran had commented on how gorgeous he was, she had no doubt Alistair would have crawled into the floor. Before Wynne healed her, she might have been equally uncomfortable for different reasons. Oh, and she mustn’t forget that on the way out they had to defeat the high dragon they woke up in spite of their efforts. She certainly had a lot to add to her journal for Marcail. Starr was so thankful that Alistair’s archery had improved during their lessons.

Alistair finished setting up the tents and joined her. She still got a thrill when he kissed her cheek before helping her. She marveled at how long she had been able to resist him, she couldn’t imagine not having him beside her. One of her favorite times together was in the morning when they just cuddled for a few sleepy minutes before getting up, savoring the nearness of the other in the privacy of their tent. Change that to semi-privacy. Fen and Zevran weren’t above sticking a head inside if they lingered. She laughed to herself as she remembered one morning when Zevran decided they were taking too long. Alistair’s backside was very close to the opening and his mouth busily devouring hers. When Zevran kissed him and commented on the view Alistair jumped, cursed and then fell on top her, knocking the breath out of her. Since then he’d been working on some way to fasten the tent against further intrusions.

“What are you thinking about, woman, with that wicked grin on your face?” Alistair asked suspiciously.

“Just that I agree with Zevran about the view,” Starr replied while wiggling her eyebrows, before ogling his rear.

“I am not surprised, my dear cousin,” the elf himself joined them. He sighed dramatically, “if only I knew what I was missing I would have redoubled my efforts to seduce him long ago.”

Starr patted his shoulder sympathetically, “I’m sorry, Zevran, he’s taken and I don’t share.” Even as she spoke, a vision of the three of them passed before her mind’s eye. She shook her head.

“I suppose the two of you think you’re funny,” Alistair muttered, blushing. “Did you come to help, Zev, or just to see me blush?”

“Seeing you blush is just a bonus, my dear templar,” he grinned slyly before adding, “I enjoy imagining just how far down it goes.” He was satisfied when Alistair blinked rapidly and his blush turned even darker. “But no, I am simply here, but if you need help bellissima, I will gladly do so.”

“We will as well,” chimed in Elissa when she and Leliana strolled over to the kitchen fires. “Wynne is getting Brother Genitivi settled for the night. Once we are out of these mountains, he should be well enough to travel on his own and as soon as we meet a caravan or reach the Imperial Highway, he can make his own way to Denerim. He is a tough old man, he and Wynne were discussing some of the things we found in the Temple.” At this, the women exchanged a quick glance and smiled.

“To think, we actually saw Andraste’s ashes, the holiest thing on this earth. I do not think anything has moved me so much. I am not sure I am worthy to gaze upon them,” the bard stated, still in a state of wonder.

“I admit it, I was in awe, truly” Morrigan joined the group, an unusual move on her part. It was as if they all felt the need to be part of something normal and mundane after their experience with the Urn. Starr quietly directed their efforts as they continued talking.

“Andraste belongs to all of us, doesn’t she?” stated Elissa.

“I wonder what she would think about the Chantry if she were here,” added Starr.

Everybody looked at Starr, startled. Morrigan smiled in approval tinged with malice at the dismay shown by Leliana. “What do you mean? The Chantry spreads her teachings,” Leliana was aghast.     

“That’s not all. It’s a political power, not simply a religious organization.”

“What do you mean, love?” Alistair was truly interested in her answer. He wasn’t an especially religious man himself. He believed in the Maker but until Morrigan he hadn’t heard anybody actually speak against the Maker or Chantry and disdainful remarks were hardly an explanation of her position. He knew the Qunari were against the Chantry, but trying to get Sten to explain anything was more difficult than getting water out of a brick wall in the middle of a desert.

Starr poured herself a cup of tea and leaned into his hands when he began massaging her neck. “Oh, that’s nice,” she sighed contentedly. “I’m not saying that there aren’t true believers in the Chantry. Certainly, Mother Hannah is a believer and tries to not only teach, but show by example. She works hard to see to the needs of those in Redcliffe, and not just a sermon one day a week. She and the Sisters and Brothers under her visit the sick, counsel those in distress, help the poor find work and shelter, and many other things. I wonder if they aren’t more like the original followers before the Chantry was created than the current leadership.”

Starr checked dinner and it was almost done. As if sensing this, Sten and Wynne came towards the group in time to hear Morrigan asking Starr a question about mages. “And their stance on mages?”

“Your people do not treat magic with the care you should. Your mages have too much freedom.” Sten stated firmly.

“I have seen some of your mages; you have special collars designed for them and sew their mouths do you not?” Zevran asked the big man.

“WHAT?!” Morrigan and Wynne exclaimed in unison.

“What the elf said is close enough,” Sten’s voice was perfectly calm as he looked over the food handed to him. It was quite satisfactory. “Magic must be properly contained or it will destroy everything in its path.”

“Then Loghain must be an incredibly powerful mage. Look at all the destruction he has caused and he managed to hide this fact from the Chantry for all these years. Amazing.” Starr countered.

“Loghain is a warrior and not a mage,” Sten stated emphatically.

“That’s my point,” Starr was quick to speak before Morrigan could say something.

“The Qun is not wrong.”

“That is _your_ belief and I can respect that even though I do not share it,” Starr responded.

“Do you believe the Chantry is wrong?” demanded Leliana.

“This is just my opinion, but I believe evil lies in the person, not in their abilities. Nor does evil have to be responsible for catastrophic events. The baker’s apprentice who banks the fires improperly one night and half the village is destroyed as a result is not evil. Careless or mistaken, but not evil. Those who prey on and abuse children are evil. Do mages have unique temptations or obstacles because of their abilities? Perhaps. Should they be trained from an early age to prepare them? Yes. Does that mean children should be forcibly removed from their homes, never to see family or home again? No, I don’t think so. Does that mean people should be taught that mages are evil by definition? No. Does that mean mages should be forced to live separate from the world and others? No.”

“You sound like Anders; he is or was a devout Andrastian, but he chafes at the Chantry’s restrictions. There may be some merit to what you say, but change must happen slowly or the consequences will be considerable,” warned Wynne. “In my case, I had no family or home. One of the few people I met who was kind to me was one of the templars who brought me to the Circle. And when I entered the Tower, if felt like I finally had a home. The Circle is not all bad, in spite of what some may think.”

“I agree, I can see many benefits to the Circle,” Starr respectfully added. “But the Chantry basically uses them as a prison. You are an experienced mage, you should be allowed to live outside the Circle without having to ask for permission if you so desire. However, the Chantry, in direct contradiction to the Chant, has managed to convince most people that mages and magic are evil. This makes it less likely that mages would want to live outside the Circle. People fear what they don’t know. Personally, I think Andraste would be horrified at what the Chantry has become.”

“ _Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him._  
_Foul and corrupt are they_  
 _Who have taken His gift_  
 _And turned it against His children._  
 _They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones._  
 _They shall find no rest in this world_  
 _Or beyond._

_All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands,_  
_From the lowest slaves_  
 _To the highest kings._  
 _Those who bring harm_  
 _Without provocation to the least of His children_  
 _Are hated and accursed by the Maker._ ” Leliana softly recited from Transfigurations.

“So the Canticles in the Chant of Light are only referring to certain types and uses of magic as evil, that magic is actually a gift from your Maker? “ Morrigan was surprised. “Your Chantry has twisted this to bring all mages under its control. Or tried to,” she snorted in contempt.

“I don’t claim to be an expert, but I can’t recall ever hearing anything in the Chant of Light about creating an armed body, such as the templars, or having authority over mages by divine right. That verse strikes me as a warning to mages and others about how not to act. I don’t see how it gives them the authority to have absolute control over a significant number of people. Nor do I see how their need to spread the word also means converting at the point of a templar sword, as happened with the Dalish.”

“Templars are the only warriors who can cross borders from one nation to another without comment, at least in small groups,” Alistair said thoughtfully. “All they have to do is say they are tracking a maleficar and nobody would question them.”

Morrigan stirred the pot, “I imagine it’s easy for some templars to abuse their powers.”

“Why do you . . . ah, the helmets. Yes.” Wynne confirmed. “It doesn’t happen often, at least in the Fereldan Circle, but sometimes abuses did occur.”

“Templars are supposed to protect the mages, are they not?” Leliana questioned.

“But the templar helmets completely cover their faces. I bet the anonymity gives some a sense of protection and if they feel they can do whatever they want . . .” Elissa’s voice trailed off.

“The mage can’t identify the transgressor and so they aren’t punished. At least officially,” Wynne finished the thought. “Greagoir has a pretty firm sense of his men, so he can guess and reassign. Unfortunately, I can easily imagine that it could be worse in other Circles. Too many will take the word of any templar over that of the most respected mage.”

Leliana chewed her lip. “This is disturbing. I wonder if any of the Mothers or the Divine is aware of this possibility.”

“ _Probably,”_ thought Starr, but didn’t say so. She didn’t see any need to distress Leliana any further. She was a smart woman; she would come to the same conclusion in her own time. She offered a change of subject, “I wonder if Andraste is even aware that the Guardian even exists.” A lively debate ensued about how closely the Maker and his Bride watched the people of Thedas and whether they should or not. It was late before the group separated to their different tents.


	37. And Then There’s Loghain

Brother Genitivi was gone. A dwarven trader by the name of Tegrin was making his way back to Denerim and the brother elected to travel with him. It was just Alistair and Starr near her fire as they finished cleaning up. Alistair was quiet, thinking about the conversation and debate a few nights before. Something had bothered him at the time, and now he realized what it was. “Starr,” he said quietly, “why didn’t you use Loghain as your example the other night? When you talked about evil.”

Starr was surprised, and had to think a minute. She looked at Alistair’s face as he concentrated on banking the fires for the night and realized what he was referring to. Reluctantly she answered him even though she knew he wouldn’t like it. “I don’t know. I know his actions have been wrong, even horrific. The consequences . . . Ferelden has known better times. I don’t think even Loghain expected this.”

“Ferelden has known _better times?_ ” As quietly as they had been speaking in order to not disturb the rest of camp, he couldn’t keep his voice from rising with sarcasm as he repeated her statement. “That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? Of course his actions were wrong. Why isn’t letting your king **and son-in-law** fall to darkspawn evil?”

“I didn’t say his actions were right. But I don’t know his intent. Loghain was a hero, and I remember something Teagan said about Loghain and the Bannorn shortly after Ostagar. He was telling them that everything he did was for Ferelden. He wasn’t going to shirk his duty nor would he let anybody else shirk theirs. What if he really meant that? I can’t help thinking that if he really thought his actions protected Ferelden then he’s delusional and to be pitied. One day, he’s going to look in the mirror and see Maric and Rowan looking back at him in horror.”

Alistair glared at her, “Pitied! You sound like you’re ready to excuse what he did!”

Starr glared right back at him and whispered harshly, “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth, Alistair Theirin. His actions were and are reprehensible; there is no changing them and no excuse. But I am not going to call him evil without knowing more, evil is too strong a word for me to use carelessly, especially about somebody who used to be Maric’s friend and helped free us from the Orlesians.”

Ostagar was still too fresh a wound; he couldn’t talk anymore about this. “I’m going to patrol the camp.” Alistair got up and walked away.

Starr looked after him for a moment, her expression pensive, then finished what little had to be done before retiring to their tent. She wrote in her journal for a bit and waited for Alistair to come back. Finally, she gave up and tried to go to sleep, but the tent seemed so large and empty without him. The silence seemed to mock her as she lay there.

Alistair checked the camp automatically, noting without paying conscious attention that everything was as it should be. His mind filled with thoughts of Ostagar, Duncan, Cailan and all the others lost that night. He sat down at one end of camp where he could see everything and let his thoughts go back in time. He had tried to avoid thinking about it, but not any longer. He had no idea how long he sat there before he finally reached, if not peace then at least an accord with his memories.

When he stood up, he had to stretch before he could walk properly and make his way home, “ _I’ve been out here a long time. I better be quiet so I don’t wake Starr.”_ He very carefully entered their tent and removed his armor. He slid into the bedroll and wrapped his arms around the woman he loved and felt the peace that had eluded him earlier.

“S-stair?” her voice hiccupped as she said his name before rolling over to bury her face in his chest.

“Who else?” he teased, then added quietly, “I didn’t mean to wake you, love. I was thinking and just lost track of time.”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back at all tonight. You were so angry when you left,” Starr admitted, sniffling.

Stunned, Alistair tightened his hold on her. “I love you, Starr; of course I was coming back. I was only angry with you for a few minutes, but even if it was more, I would still return. We had an argument; we’ll probably have more. You have to trust me.”

“I do, Stair, I do. And I love you too. I just, oh, this is going to sound so stupid. These past few weeks have been so perfect, I’ve been so happy, sometimes I’ve felt it wasn’t real and that I was going to wake up and we would just be friends again. I don’t want to go back to that, it would hurt too much,” she confessed.

“Good thing that’s not going to happen, then,” he whispered back, then smirked. “You know what you just said don’t you? I am the man of your dreams.”

“No, even better,” she corrected him; “you’re the man of my reality.” And she moved on top of him and kissed him slowly. If they didn’t sleep that night, neither complained the next day.


	38. Return to Redcliffe

They were returning to Redcliffe with a pinch of ashes, but would they help? The question echoed in their minds as they neared the village. For Starr and Alistair the question wasn’t as important as the fact they would be seeing Marcail again. Starr had never been away for so long, and shortly they would be leaving again. She was shy about announcing her relationship with Alistair; it was still very new. Maybe it would be best to give Marcail more time to get to know him. For all the troubles they encountered, the last few weeks had been a gift. She could also admit to herself that if they said nothing, she could savor the privacy of their relationship for just a little while longer. She had better talk to Alistair before they arrived.

Alistair hoped the ashes would cure Eamon, of course he did, he didn’t want to think about the alternative. However, Eamon was no longer his primary focus in Redcliffe. One little boy was. Did they tell Marcail they were close, or should that wait a while? Now he understood what Starr meant when she said the past few weeks seemed like a dream. People and practicalities were pressing on them. They were going to be in Redcliffe for a few days. This time they would actually have a chance to recover and rest before they headed back out. Hopefully, enough merchants were able to get through that they would be able to restock without having to go to Denerim. And there would be strategy sessions, Eamon would insist. Probably not a bad idea; he thought he and Elissa were doing a fine job but a more seasoned opinion would be helpful. Maybe he should use the next few days to get to know Marcail better. He was suddenly glad that Starr suggested he keep a journal, he liked the idea of leaving something of himself behind with his son.

They reached the plateau overlooking Redcliffe. Just as he did once before he turned to a woman he cared about, “We have to talk.” He hoped this time turned out a lot better than the last time as he and Starr slowed and stepped back from the others.

“Yes, we do. Stair, about Marcail . . .”

“. . . we shouldn’t tell him yet that we’re involved.” He smiled to himself as she sighed in relief. “I want him to get to know me better before he finds out we’re more than just friends.” He groaned as he thought of something, “This means we can’t be together like we have been, not while we’re in Redcliffe.” Starr nodded, she’d already thought of this. “Maker! I miss you already, how soon can we be back on the road?”

Starr agreed with everything Alistair said, but she took small comfort in that. “It won’t be easy; when I’m around you it seems so natural to reach for you, even in the most innocent way. The thought of seeing you without being able to touch, I’m already aching.”

“I’ll just have to court you then. Marcail can get used to the idea that we’re a bit closer than we were, and we can at least hold hands. And if I pull you into a corner for a quick kiss when nobody’s around, well, that’s what courting couples do, isn’t it? Maybe I should practice. Right. Now.” and he drew her in for a final kiss, or two, or three.

While they waited on the bridge for Alistair and Starr to catch up, the others speculated on what they could be talking about. “Perhaps, whose bed is closest?” Zevran suggested flippantly.

“Somehow, I do not think that is it,” Leliana disagreed. “Though they may be considering it,” she added when she saw the --intensity of their kiss.

Wynne and Elissa looked at each other and nodded, “Marcail,” they said together. Elissa continued, “I think they’re discussing what to tell Marcail, or if they should say anything.”

“Yes,” Wynne elaborated, “their romance is still new, and Marcail barely knows Alistair. Starr is a very good mother, and as much as she cares for Alistair, she’ll want Marcail to get to know him better without worrying that he’ll have to share her. Time will either strengthen the bond between Alistair and Starr, or the intensity of their emotions will run its course. Either way, waiting to publicly say anything might be the best decision.”

Morrigan snorted, “That won’t be easy. They can’t keep their hands off each other when there isn’t a battle. All that touching and the gooey looks they give each other, it’s nauseating.”

“Well then, we shall just have to do our best to assist our handsome templar and the celestial Starr in their efforts to remain chaste, for the sake of their son, of course.” Zevran wickedly put in. He looked over at Fen, who seemed to understand and slowly trotted over to the pair. Mentally Zevran rubbed his hands together. _“The next few days could be fun, indeed.”_

Elissa and Leliana looked at Zevran, then at each other. Leliana smiled angelically. “Zevran, I think you are correct. What sort of friends would we be if we did not help them in their endeavors?”

Sten did not understand humans. This was no different. He ignored their banter as he usually did and targeted one item. “Why do Starr and Alistair have any say at all in what Marcail is told?”

“They are his parents,” Elissa explained, perplexed.

“What does this have to do with raising children? Do not your priests do this?” Sten asked.

“Of course not. Well, orphans maybe. Usually, though, his mother and father raise a child. You don’t raise your own children?” Elissa was curious.

“No. The process of breeding does not mean one is qualified to raise and educate a child. The Tamassrans decide with whom we will breed and will then take the child to be educated. In time, they will determine their position within the Qun. If humans do not practice this, then Marcail is fortunate that Starr is the one seeing to his education.” Sten ended the discussion by moving farther along the bridge.

Elissa thought that explained a lot. Fortunately, for the impatient Sten, Starr and Alistair joined them holding hands. “So, which is it going to be? Are you telling Marcail or keeping quiet for now? Please don’t look so surprised, it wasn’t that difficult to guess,” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, well, this trip we’re just going to let Stair and Marcail get better acquainted. Without corpses and demons to deal with it seems like a good opportunity.” Starr explained.

As if on cue Fen and Griffon insinuated themselves between the lovers, forcing them to let go of each other’s hands. Alistair looked down at the panting mabari, “I get it, I get it.” He sighed; it was going to be a long few days.

Marcail and Bevin were practicing with wooden swords under the guidance of Ser Perth. They dropped them when they saw the travelers. “Mom, Dad!” Marcail ran to greet them only to stop when Fen intercepted him. “Fen!” For a moment, the boy and wolf wrestled happily together before Marcail tore away to his parents who were rapidly walking to meet him. “You’re back!” He jumped into Starr’s arms and she hugged him tight.

“I missed you so-o-o much. I think you’ve grown, and Ser Perth is teaching you swordplay? How exciting.” Starr let go of her son and he gave Alistair a grin and a hug.

“Are you gonna fix Arl Eamon? Connor’s been really sad about his dad. Did you fight a lot of those monsters? Are there any left? I’m going to be a knight,” Marcail was bursting with joy.

Starr and Alistair laughed. It was good to see Marcail so happy and healthy. “Marcail, take your father to the Castle and let him tell you of our adventures on the way. The Wardens should go to Arl Eamon immediately. I’ll be along shortly, as soon as I drop off my things, and you can tell me everything.” Starr suggested. She watched with a fond smile as her warrior allowed the eager boy to lead him away. She turned to Bevin, “You’re looking well, Bevin. Are you planning on being a knight as well?”

“I want to learn how to use my grandfather’s sword and be an adventurer like you and Alistair. Bann Teagan said it would be good for Marcail to begin learning and that it would be better for somebody to learn with him. Lady Isolde wouldn’t let Connor learn, though. She said mages didn’t need to know anything about that.” Bevin shrugged his shoulders; sometimes the decisions of adults didn’t make any sense to him. “My sister went to the Castle earlier; I better let her know you’re all here.” He ran off, he didn’t want to miss anything if he could help it.

“And how are you, Ser Perth? Thank you for teaching Marcail and Bevin how to use a sword. I’m sure it must be taxing at times training two energetic young boys. Pity Connor couldn’t learn, I think he would enjoy it,” she smiled at the knight before bending down to retrieve the wooden swords the boys had dropped. “Hmm, I think I better remind them to take care of their weapons, even if they are only wooden practice swords.”

“Allow me milady,” he took the swords from her. He was struck by how attractive she was, even more so than when she left with the Wardens. Slowly they began walking to the village, “And thank you for asking; we are much better in Redcliffe now that the dead no longer walk. Bevin and your son are a pleasure to work with, milady. They have enthusiasm but are willing to listen and learn. Things are slowly returning to normal and the people will be much happier once our Arl is well. Were you successful in your search?” He smiled when Starr nodded, “This is truly good news. I would take it kindly if you would tell me about it.”

“Only if you call me Starr, Ser Perth, I’m not a noblewoman or anybody special.”

“I think many would disagree with that, mila-I mean Starr. Thank you, I am honored. And please, call me Tristan.”

“Very well, Tristan. Our first course of action was to go to Denerim and try to find Brother Genitivi, instead we . . . “ Leliana and Zevran could hear no more as Starr and Ser Perth went further down the hillside. They had stayed behind to watch and were intrigued with the knight’s response to the beautiful woman.

“Oh dear, I think Ser Perth may be smitten,” said Leliana as they moved to catch up to their comrades. “Somebody should warn him before a situation develops.”

“It seems my comely cousin has no idea of her effect on others. Her happiness makes her even more attractive and she is like a flame for the moth,” Zevran said. “Every time I come to Redcliffe I am amazed at the opportunities for entertainment that arise. I wonder how our dear friend Alistair will react to the knowledge that he might not be the only one to court the celestial Starr.” A mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a wicked grin accompanied that last statement.

Leliana giggled in agreement. “I am sure it is in his own best interest to learn how to handle a situation like this now, it is bound to occur again. Perhaps Ser Perth will realize the lady does not return his interest.” She had no reason to be concerned, Ser Perth was a sensitive man and realized as soon as Starr mentioned Alistair’s name that her affections were taken.

“Starr!” Bella squealed and came around the store counter to hug her friend. “You look wonderful! How goes your search?” There were no customers in the store then so she put the closed sign up and locked the door. “And how is Alistair?” Starr’s blush told her everything she needed to know. “I’m sure you want to take your things upstairs and clean up a bit. I’ll come with you and tell you everything that’s been going on here. First, you should know that Marcail and I moved in with Kaitlyn and Bevin. She felt nervous being alone in the house with just her younger brother. It’s turned out for the best.” The two friends chatted as they went up the steps.

It didn’t take long for Starr to gather some water so she could freshen up and change out of her armor. It felt nice to put on a simple skirt and shirt for a change. She gathered her hair back in the purple hair ribbon Alistair bought her. She smiled to herself as she realized she was trying to look nice for Alistair. “Did Alistair give you that rose?” Bella asked, observing the smile on Starr’s face.

Starr blushed like a young girl and nodded, “You were right, Bella. Once I stopped being afraid . . . the past few weeks have been wonderful. Please don’t say anything, though. We want Marcail to get to know Alistair better; they didn’t have much chance last time.” Bella agreed and they headed off to Castle Redcliffe. Their progress was slowed by the other villagers who stopped to greet them. Bella wondered if Starr noticed that most of them were men who also happened to be single. Love and happiness made her friend’s beauty more approachable.

The Wardens and Wynne joined Teagan and the other healers where Arl Eamon lay. The Ashes worked! Alistair was beyond relieved and thanked the Maker. The Wardens and Teagan accompanied Eamon to his study to discuss the situation.

Teagan gave Eamon a brief summary of events. News of Loghain’s actions disturbed Eamon greatly. It was hard for him to accept that the man he knew all those years could have changed so much that he would do these despicable acts. “It is hard for me to believe, but we must take action. First, I would like to thank all those that have done so much to help us. Warden, you and your companions are all Champions of Redcliffe and will always be welcome here. And for you Warden, I would like to present a Shield of Redcliffe. Use it well.” Elissa graciously thanked the Arl and waited for him to continue. “This is a difficult situation. Teagan and I would appear no better than Loghain if we challenged him. We need a stronger contender than either of us.”

“Do you mean Alistair, brother?” Teagan wanted there to be no misunderstanding.

“Yes. We’ll need to call a Landsmeet. Our claim by marriage is tenuous at best. Alistair’s claim is by blood and much stronger than any other’s.” Eamon affirmed.

“But what . . .” Alistair started to respond, being king wasn’t something he wanted or even thought he had any skill for, but an image of Marcail stopped those thoughts. This was Marcail’s birthright, Eamon didn’t know it, but this was probably the best way to make sure the rightful king eventually took the throne. For his son, he could do this, “I can’t say I’m looking forward to this, but I understand. While we’re here I would prefer no mention be made of this, I need some time to get used to the idea.”

“Agreed,” said Arl Eamon. “In fact, until we are ready to call the Landsmeet it would be best to keep the information to ourselves. Much could happen between now and then and I don’t want to tip our hand too early. Tomorrow we can discuss our strategy more fully, for now I want to spend some time with my family. I will see you all at dinner tonight.”

“Eamon, I’m sure Isolde is looking forward to having time with you and Connor so I’ll make sure the kitchen can prepare,” Teagan suggested.

“Thank you, Teagan that is most kind of you. For tonight, I will accept your offer with gratitude. Until dinner then,” Eamon left the study to return to the family quarters. Teagan and the Wardens remained for a few minutes longer, thinking about the new strategy and what it meant.

“Well, I for one could use something to eat. I think I’ll head to the kitchen and then look for Marcail.” Alistair stood up and walked away, followed by the others. He stopped short when he heard voices in the Hall.”

“Greetings, miladies. It is good to see you again, Starr. The Wardens are in the study with Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan. It is truly the Maker’s blessings that shine on Castle Redcliffe today. If you are looking for Marcail, I believe he is in the kitchen with Bevin and Miss Kaitlyn,” Ser Perth greeted them with a smile in his voice.

“Thank you, Tristan; I’ll go there right now. If anybody asks, would you let them know where I’ll be?” Starr replied.

“I will be happy to be of service,” Ser Perth watched Starr and Bella leave then returned to his post.

_“Starr? Tristan?”_ Alistair thought, with one eyebrow raised in speculation. He strode forward and snuck a peak at Ser Perth as he followed the ladies to the kitchen. He remembered Leliana talking about how attractive she thought the knight was. _“Huh, I suppose he’s good looking, a little pretty though. I hope he isn’t planning anything with my Starr.”_

Teagan didn’t miss the slight tension in Alistair’s face and smiled. _“If Alistair isn’t going to pursue his feelings with Starrelena, then he can’t be upset if others decide to court her.”_ Since he was also going to the kitchens he continued next to the younger man. “It will be good to see Starr again. Kaitlyn is doing quite well so far, but I can admit to you that she has a way to go before she is as talented in the kitchen as Starr. Has her being with you been helpful?”

Elissa answered, she was hungry too and hoped to find something to eat. “Her skills at camp and in battle have been very valuable. We might have wasted away with Alistair’s ‘cooking’ if she didn’t come with us. We’re very lucky, aren’t we Alistair?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yes, very lucky indeed. Her scouting skills came in useful several times,” Alistair had to tear himself away from his thoughts to answer Elissa’s question. Fortunately, for Alistair, they reached the kitchen and he didn’t have a chance to embarrass himself. He took a second to absorb the pleasant scene in front of him, the warm fires, three pretty women working together and chatting companionably, Marcail regaling Bevin with the stories Alistair told him. He noticed Starr was wearing both the rose and the ribbon he gave her and almost felt sorry for Ser Perth. “I’m afraid of starving to death before dinner, I’m begging for some cheese or something to tide me over until then,” he said dramatically.

Starr looked at him and smiled. “I thought you and Elissa might want something,” she said drily. “Marcail, would you do the honors?” Marcail and Bevin snickered before Marcail pulled a large napkin off the plate in the middle of the table. Fruit, cheese and rolls were piled high.

Alistair strolled over to Starr and put his hand on her arm, “Thank you.” In a lower voice he added, “you look really lovely, Starr.” His eyes caressed her before he continued, “Can we talk, either before or after dinner?”

Surprised at his tone she lifted her eyebrows but said, “Of course. Marcail will stay at Bevin’s tonight, but we can get him settled and talk then, if that’s alright?”

He smiled at her and wondered for the thousandth time how he got so lucky. “That will be perfect.” He moved to the table and quickly sat down and grabbed some food. Elissa and Teagan joined them. Elissa sat down with a mumbled thanks and the boys watched in some awe as the two Wardens demolished everything on the plate. Kaitlyn was a bit wide-eyed herself. This was the first time she’d seen Wardens with food.

Teagan was only momentarily diverted by the sight; he looked at Bella, Starr and Kaitlyn and declared, “If so much beauty is to be found in Castle Redcliffe’s kitchen I should make a point of coming here more often. Starr, I think your travels have agreed with you, you are even more beautiful now than when you left.” He smiled at the flustered young woman before turning his attention to Bella and Kaitlyn. “Thankfully, it appears Arl Eamon will fully recover. He’s currently with Connor and Isolde, enjoying some private time with his family. They will be down for dinner, and I would like all of you to be there as well, including these two young scamps. I’m also going to ask Ser Perth, Murdock, and Revered Mother Hannah to join us. Perhaps a buffet rather than a more formal meal? I do not know how quickly Eamon might tire, and feel a buffet will make it easier for him to retire early if he decides to do so.” He thought a moment, “Would you send up a plate of fruit and cheese, as well as some hot tea to the family? Bella, there are some things we should discuss, will you join me in Eamon’s study?”

Bella left with Teagan, Elissa and Alistair entertained the two boys while Kaitlyn and Starr prepared a tray for the family. Kaitlyn whispered to Starr, “Are Wardens always like that with food?” Starr snorted and nodded her head. “By the Maker you were busy. Why does Bann Teagan want _me_ at dinner tonight? What do you think we should prepare? I like cooking; I’d like to continue working here, if I can. I don’t want Lady Isolde to think I am too unsophisticated or simple to be their cook.”

Starr smiled at the younger woman, still a girl in some ways. “Bann Teagan probably just wants to make sure Arl Eamon knows how helpful you and Bella have been. I imagine that you’ve been mostly in charge of the kitchen while Bella manages the store and helps Teagan.” Kaitlyn shyly confirmed her guess. “You’ve probably already figured out we’ll need something hearty and filling for the Wardens, and lots of it. I think we should also have a soup, something not too rich. Arl Eamon has been sick for so long that I’m not sure what will sit well with him. I know Bann Teagan suggested a buffet, which is fine, but I don’t see why we can’t put a bowl of soup at everybody’s place as a starter. We can have a tureen with more soup on the sideboard with the other food. You know what we have, can we do that?”

Kaitlyn slowly nodded her head, thinking. “We have lots of rice. Maybe a vegetable soup with rice and chicken, lightly seasoned? That should sit well with everybody.” The two women began making plans and preparations.

Elissa had wandered off to update the others. That left Alistair and the two boys in the kitchen with the women. He looked at Marcail, “Shall we take a walk? I can show you some of our favorite places when we lived here, and where we got in trouble.” He grinned down at Marcail who grinned back at him. “We’ll come back in time to help Kaitlyn and your mother with dinner.” They started to leave when Marcail pulled on his hand and looked back, a question in his eyes. Alistair looked at Bevin still sitting at the table, staring glumly at the surface. “Bevin, are you coming or not? If you prefer to stay here, I understand.” The adults were amused at the alacrity with which the boy joined his best friend.

“Kaitlyn, where are the others? Shouldn’t they be here helping you by now?” Starr asked. Managing a kitchen for an Arl, even if there were fewer people to feed than normal, was a difficult if not impossible job to do alone.

Kaitlyn shrugged. “It’s just me, Bella and the boys. So many people died, I don’t know who was here before that might be available. Many of the women in the village are leery of coming to the Castle. Maybe now that Arl Eamon is cured they will feel more comfortable. Some days I just get so tired,” she admitted, “especially with more knights returning.”

Concerned, Starr thought a moment, “I have an idea. I’ll be back soon.” Now that the Arl was cured, she would normally bring the matter before Lady Isolde, but she was loathe to interrupt the family in their reunion. She could talk to Lady Isolde later. However, perhaps she could talk to Ser Perth. She found him in the main hall and hurried over to him. “Tristan, could I have a moment of your time?” The other knights and guards in the hall observed them with varying degrees of interest. Starr quickly explained the situation and asked if any of his men were able to help Kaitlyn, at least for a few days.

“It shall be done. I will go speak with them at once, some who were injured are not ready to take up their full duties but I think they will be relieved to have something useful to do, though they may grumble at first.” Ser Perth started to leave but Starr stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Is there something else?” and was surprised to see her blush.

Starr felt awkward and didn’t look at him when she spoke. “Tristan, umm, Kaitlyn is a very pretty girl, but she’s also very young . . .”

A light blush stained the knight’s cheeks as he realized what she was saying, “I understand. Kaitlyn is fortunate to have a friend such as you. Tell Miss Kaitlyn that she will have the assistance she needs.” She rewarded him with a wide smile before Starr returned to the kitchen. Ser Perth looked after her for a moment, _“I hope Alistair realizes his good fortune,”_ he thought before seeking the men he had mentioned. _  
_


	39. A Night at the Castle

Alistair thoroughly enjoyed his afternoon with the boys. He showed Marcail where he first met Starr and told them the story. They both said “eeuw” when he told them about the kiss. They went to the stables where Alistair spent a lot of time, though he did **not** say he was forced to sleep there. They showed each other their favorite places and the boys demonstrated what they had learned so far from Ser Perth. Bevin eventually left to see if Bella was at the store and needed him. Marcail and Alistair were sitting at the vantage point over the shed next to Lloyd’s tavern, enjoying the pleasant afternoon and pointing things or people out to the other. Alistair pulled something out of his vest and showed it to Marcail.

“When I was a younger than you, Bann Teagan gave me a small statue of a golem. It was the first real present I ever had and I treasured it. Eventually I had a small collection and my warriors would battle, sometimes your mother played with me and commanded the enemy troops. She cheated,” he whispered. Marcail smothered a giggle. “That collection was one of my most treasured possessions. When we were searching for the Urn, I found this in a dragon’s lair and I want you to have it.” He handed the stone warrior statue to Marcail who beamed with joy.

Marcail threw his arms around Alistair’s neck and thanked him. “I’m gonna go show Bevin and then put it in my room.” He ran off in the direction of the village store, leaving a grinning Alistair to follow behind him. Ahead of him, he could hear Marcail yelling, “Bevin!” When he got to the store, he only saw Bella.

“Hello, Alistair. The boys are upstairs deciding on the best place to display the statue. As soon as they come down we need to head back to the Castle.” She lowered her voice so the boys wouldn’t hear, “Starr seems very happy; she told me you weren’t saying anything to anybody yet, and I respect that. I just wanted you to know that you’ve made a big difference to both of them.” A clattering on the steps announced the return of Bevin and Marcail and prevented Alistair from replying, though it couldn’t stop the flush of pleasure on his face.

When they arrived at the kitchen, they were surprised to see about half a dozen knights and squires helping Starr and Kaitlyn. Ser Perth had chosen well. While some obviously enjoyed working with the two attractive women, all of them treated Kaitlyn and Starr with the utmost respect. Some were chopping vegetables, one young man was stirring something in a pot, and others were fetching and carrying. Starr and Kaitlyn were free to supervise and concentrate on the more skilled tasks. Alistair sniffed appreciatively; the aroma of cooking foods filled his senses. “Starr, you and Kaitlyn have more volunteers, what shall we do?”

“Kaitlyn, you seem to have things pretty well organized in here and know how to direct the boys, I’ll take Stair with me to the dining hall and see what needs to be done there.” Her face flushed prettily from the heat, Kaitlyn agreed. Bella opted to stay with Kaitlyn for the moment, she thought Starr might want a few minutes alone with Alistair.

Nobody was in the dining hall when Starr got there with Alistair. Seeing they were alone and hearing no one in the vicinity, Alistair pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss. It wasn’t enough. They broke apart when they heard voices nearby. Alistair closed his eyes and calmed himself; the next few days were going to be torture. His voice was only a little hoarser than usual when he asked, “So, what do we need to do?”

Starr took a deep breath and looked around the room.  They could move the big table plus one other to the middle, which should provide enough seating. The smaller tables would go along the sides, one side for drinks and lighter fare such as sweet cheeses and fruit, the other for soup and the heartier dishes. She and Alistair quickly started moving chairs and benches out of the way. Hearing the scraping against the floor, Ser Perth and Zevran joined them. Noticing the flushed faces, Zevran decided to have some fun, “Ah, Ser Perth, have you ever seen a more beautiful sight than that of our celestial Starr? A man would have to be blind or completely uninterested in the fairer sex to be immune to such loveliness and yet the stalwart warrior is able to resist prostrating himself at her feet. In Antiva that would be a crime against nature.”

Ser Perth raised his eyebrows at the excessive nature of the elf’s comments then noticed the red flush deepening on the back of Alistair’s neck and his lips quirked just slightly. “I think that would be inconvenient for the woman in question, but I must agree that you are looking exceptionally lovely, Starr. We heard the sounds of furniture being moved and thought to offer our services however you could use them.”

_“Bloody elf would have to bring him. He’ll probably be making comments like that all night, ‘offer my services however you can use them’ indeed,”_ Alistair gritted his teeth and tried to tell himself the knight was just being polite. He hadn’t realized that by pretending they weren’t involved, other men might present themselves as suitors. It would only be a few days he reminded himself and tried to put a good face on the situation. “So, Ser Perth, how long have you been with Arl Eamon?”

“It has been my fortune to serve our Arl for nigh on eight years, my lord. I understand you have been a Grey Warden for only a few months and were training to be a templar before that. Your skills in battle must be quite considerable,” Ser Perth was relieved that Alistair was trying to be polite, he did not relish being in the position the Antivan tried to put him in. Neither did Starr, judging by the look she was giving the elf who just smiled back at her as if he were an innocent babe.

“Please, just Alistair is fine or even Warden if you prefer. If Eamon has kept your services for so many years, you must be quite skilled yourself. Perhaps later we could even spar, practice dummies are all well and good, but I find sparring with a live opponent a better way of keeping my skills sharp.”

“I would like that indeed and I agree. Perhaps you and your companions could give us some tips on what we might face once we are in battle against these darkspawn creatures.” Ser Perth was comfortable with this topic, and he did believe that he and his knights could benefit from anything the Wardens could show them. “Surely battling them is different than battling men.”

“Depending on what you’re facing, definitely. That sounds like a good idea; I’ll talk to Elissa about it later.” Alistair thought that might help the knights and ultimately the Wardens. “However, right now we better start moving furniture. Let’s get this big table.” The two warriors got to work while Starr and Zevran darted around the room moving the smaller pieces.

“Thank you, Tristan,” Starr said once all the furniture was in place. “I know you have many duties and I appreciate your assistance, as well as the loan of your men in the kitchen. They have been a tremendous help to Kaitlyn.”

“I am glad to be of service. The men were quite eager to be useful until they can return to full duty. Until this evening, then,” Ser Perth turned and left the dining hall.

“What would you have of us, oh sexy slave driver? We are yours to command,” Zevran bowed with a flourish.

Alistair surprised them when he looked at Starr and simply said, “Command me, I am yours.” Only the heat in his eyes indicated he wasn’t just playing along with the jest. Zevran grinned in appreciation even as Starr blushed at the images in her mind caused by his words. Clearing her throat, she directed them to get hot water and brushes to make sure the tables were clean. Passing by Alistair, she shot him a look, letting him know she would remember his words when they were alone. He could only hope so.

Dinner that evening was lively. If Isolde was surprised at the informality and some of the guests, her relief to have her husband and son dining with them again overshadowed it. Arl Eamon looked round the table and felt immensely grateful. “Before we get too involved with this inviting meal, I would like to express my thanks. I said as much to the Wardens earlier, but would like to do so again now that I am facing their companions. You have my gratitude and are all Champions of Redcliffe, you will always find welcome here. And, of course, you have the support of Redcliffe for the events ahead. Murdock, Ser Perth, Bella, Kaitlyn and Starrelena I understand I have much to thank you for, as well. Teagan has informed me of how much you have done beyond what could be expected and I hope to find a way to adequately show my appreciation and that of my family.”

“Hear, hear brother,” cheered Bann Teagan. “And I would like to take this moment for a happy announcement, if you would all be patient for a few seconds more.” He took Bella’s hand and raised it to his lips, “This lovely lady has consented to be my bride. I know it is short notice, but we would like the wedding to take place in three days. Starr will be leaving with the Wardens again and my soon-to-be wife wants her friend here for the event.” Bella blushed at all the attention and congratulations from around the table.

Mother Hannah gave thanks for the food, and the strength and assistance given to the citizens of Redcliffe by those present, and the recovery of their Arl. She also asked the Maker to bless the upcoming union of Bann Teagan and Bella. There was much laughter. Arl Eamon teased his brother that it was about time he got married, and warned Bella that she would have much to do to correct his bachelor habits. He chuckled when she replied that she was already working on it. Murdock sat next to Starr and spoke to her in a voice for her ears alone, “Is it true you will be leaving again soon? Some of the men have come to me asking about your plans. They’re all good lads, and maybe a little in awe of you. I think they were hoping to court you, but it appears you will be unavailable.” The gruff older man was slightly flushed as he spoke.

Starr looked at him in surprise. She answered him just as quietly, “Tell them I am pleasantly surprised and flattered. Right now, I’m not in a position to accept their attentions. Since I’m leaving in a few days, it just wouldn’t be right. Do you understand?”

Murdock’s eyes flicked to Alistair then back to her so quickly she couldn’t read his expression, but he was smiling when he said, “I understand. They’ll be disappointed, but I think you are right.” Speaking in a normal tone, he asked about the Urn. “I have heard some different stories about your search for the Ashes, some of them quite unbelievable and was hoping I could get the true story.”

“Is it true you had to fight a dragon?” Bevin asked in awe from across the table.

“More than one,” responded Alistair. “I was very grateful for the archery lessons Starr gave me on our journey or parts of me might have been roasted.”

Starr added, “A word of advice, never wake a napping high dragon, they get _s-o-o_ cranky.” She rolled her eyes and everybody chuckled.

Zevran took up the tale, “It was quite a sight, four beautiful warrior goddesses of old battling the tempestuous dragon. Mystical Morrigan throwing lightning and ice; the Warden facing it down like a battle queen from ancient tales, standing against its fiery breath with her crossbow and daggers; lovely Leliana and the celestial Starr raining arrows upon the beast to slow it down and ultimately pin the dragon. They left very little for Alistair and me to do except to look all handsome and masculine.”

Marcail was sitting between Starr and Alistair. In disappointment, he looked up at Alistair, “Dad, you didn’t fight the dragon at all?” Eamon raised an eyebrow upon hearing Alistair called ‘Dad;’ Teagan caught his eye and shook his head indicating they would talk later.

Elissa answered the boy, “Zevran exaggerates. Both of them were busy firing arrows as well. When fighting something as big as a castle you want to weaken it first. That didn’t stop Zevran from running up the dragon’s tail onto its back and slashing it with his daggers. And your father attacked it head on more than once with shield and sword. In fact, Alistair landed the final blow to defeat it.” She turned to the redhead, “Leliana, you should really tell the tale. You’re much better than any of us and I have a feeling your version will be more accurate,” she finished, casting a jaundiced eye at Zevran who pretended outrage.

Leliana proceeded to entertain them with stories of their travels as well as some of the stories she used to tell as a minstrel. Wynne was sitting next to Lady Isolde and noticed that Connor, between his parents, kept looking at his friends wistfully. “Connor, dear, are you enjoying your lessons with Kinnon? He says you are doing very well.” Kinnon also expressed concern about Connor being kept from his friends. Connor was lonely and Isolde’s smothering made him feel more isolated, the last thing the boy needed right now.

“Yes ma’am. I didn’t realize there was so much to learn, but he’s very good at explaining things so that I understand. I can even make a ball of light appear in my hand, now.”

Wynne laughed, “That’s quite impressive and perhaps you can show me what you’ve learned while I’m here. It’s not as easy as just snapping your fingers, is it? What do you do for exercise? Do you join Marcail and Bevin when they’re with Ser Perth?” She wanted a better idea of Isolde, Connor and Eamon’s reactions. Connor just looked glumly down at his plate.

“Mages do not need to know how to use a sword,” Isolde said quickly. Wynne detected a hint of fear in the woman, fear of Connor being hurt perhaps.

Eamon looked at Wynne consideringly, “I do not think that is precisely what she meant my dear. Go on, madam.”

“Connor appears to be fully recovered from his ordeal, and I assure you I can certainly appreciate your concern. I have trained many apprentices over more years than I care to admit to,” Wynne smiled, “I taught Kinnon when he first came to the Circle. The worst days were always the ones when I couldn’t take the children up to the large exercise room. With no physical outlet for their energy or a chance simply to play with their friends they didn’t concentrate as well. There were more accidents and very little progress in their studies on those days. It didn’t take me long to realize that a healthier body made for a more disciplined mind which -”

“- in turn made for a better mage. And this training would be physical discipline as well; I shall speak to Ser Perth. If he is agreeable and Kinnon agrees to accompany him then Connor can join his friends. After all, what we want is what’s best for Connor,” Eamon said firmly and quietly. The look of hope on Connor’s face was reward enough.

Wynne decided a change in subject would help ease the tension she felt coming from Connor’s mother. “Lady Isolde, I understand you are from Orlais. Leliana has told us a little of the fashions and the Chantry at Val Royeaux. Have you ever been?”

After dinner, the three boys got together while the adults mingled. Kaitlyn began taking dishes back to the kitchen. Starr began helping, as did Alistair and Ser Perth. When she returned to the dining hall, Arl Eamon hailed her, “Starrelena Feyorlin, I meant what I said earlier, you have done much to help Redcliffe and I wish you to know that you are included with the Wardens' companions when I named them Champions of Redcliffe.”

Starr tried not to be surprised, “Th-thank you my lord, I just tried to do the right thing.”

“Well, with such amazing results I hope you always do so. And that more people would follow your lead,” Eamon smiled kindly at the young woman. He didn’t know what the status of their relationship was beyond a longstanding friendship and Marcail. He could understand why Alistair might be smitten with the mother of his child, and if she were of noble birth that would be one thing, but he was a bastard and the kingdom would be better off if he married someone more appropriate. Too bad Elissa Cousland was also a Grey Warden. “May I ask why you, Ser Perth and others are clearing the tables? Is there something wrong?”

“Now that you are well, I don’t think so. Kaitlyn has only had the boys and sometimes Bella to help her in the kitchen until today when Ser Perth spoke to some of his men. The women in the village have been leery of the Castle, but once they see you are well I’m sure it will be easy to hire more workers. If she had proper help, I think Kaitlyn would like to stay on.” She excused herself and went back to work. With all the willing hands, it didn’t take long to finish.

“She’s a remarkable young woman, brother,” Teagan joined Eamon. “Intelligent, kind, strong, her beauty is both inside and out.”

“Is Alistair really the boy’s father?” Eamon quietly asked as he digested what Teagan was telling him.

“Surely you have noticed the resemblance, and Alistair has formally acknowledged that he is the father. I see no reason to doubt either of them.”

“The Therein bloodline breeds strong, but more than one Theirin was alive when Marcail was conceived,” the Arl speculated.

Teagan thought about Eamon’s comments, “Alistair would know better than either of us. I can tell you that Starr loves her son and is a good mother. She’s also an honorable woman and was Alistair’s only friend when they were children. That connection is still there. If what you are thinking is true, Alistair knows it. Watch him with the boy; you can see the bond between them. It is my hope that Alistair and Starr find their way to each other.”

“You always were something of a romantic in spite of being a ladies’ man, Teagan,” Eamon couldn’t help smiling as he said this. “It’s a shame her background isn’t better, but I see no reason to worry at the moment.” However, he would drop a subtle word in Alistair’s ear tomorrow after the strategy session.


	40. Seal of Approval

Alistair and Teagan walked with Kaitlyn, Starr, Bella and the boys back to the village. Teagan was thinking about his conversation with Eamon shortly after dinner while the women discussed the wedding and the boys talked about dragons. He should thank Starr someday for suggesting Bella assist him and take over the store. He’d always thought she was a pretty woman when he saw her, but once he had the opportunity to know her he realized she was so much more. Maker knows she had patience dealing with Isolde. As for Eamon, well Eamon was more concerned about the possibility of Alistair becoming infatuated with Starr than Teagan’s marriage to a commoner and former tavern wench. He wasn’t too happy that the young man had formally acknowledged Marcail as his son. Then Eamon sighed and said it was probably nothing, that Starr seemed a levelheaded young woman.

_“I hope Eamon doesn’t interfere, although he probably will if he feels the boy is too ‘entangled.’ Starr is a lovely and intelligent young woman. The Bannorn will be charmed without her even trying, the fact she has already provided Alistair an heir will be a point in their favor. The prospect of another fight over the succession in a few years must not be tolerated. Alistair and his Starr complement each other in so many ways, if he loves her I hope he has the strength to stand up to Eamon. My brother means well, but he has a very political mind which sometimes blinds him to other considerations.”_ Looking at them now, he was beginning to wonder if their relationship wasn’t closer than they let on. Whatever their reasons, discretion was currently in their best interests.

Alistair was relieved to be out of the Castle. Isolde’s presence was a constant irritation and reminder of how lonely he felt as a child before Starr. And he wasn’t sure he liked the way Eamon seemed to be weighing him, judging what kind of king he would be. Maker, he was probably imagining that. They had a lot to do before that was even a possibility. He wondered what Starr would think, if that would change things between them. He wasn’t going to let her back away because of it, they were meant to be.

They reached Kaitlyn’s house. Starr and Alistair didn’t leave until the boys settled down. They promised Marcail he would be joining his mother over the store tomorrow and stay there for the next few days. He tried to keep them by asking questions and for stories, but his eyelids were already drooping. Kissing him on the forehead, they left him in the room he shared with Bevin and said goodnight to Kaitlyn. Teagan and Bella were making sure all was well at the house next door; the owners died in the attack and the newlyweds would stay there rather than in the castle. Marcail would join them instead of Bevin and Kaitlyn when the Wardens left Redcliffe again.

It was only a short distance to the store but it seemed to take forever. Alone under the night sky, the air between them became charged and each was extraordinarily aware of the other. The moon shining on silver hair, the breadth and strength of masculine shoulders, the outline of breasts under a simple shirt, heat emanating from the warrior, were observations too fleeting yet basic for someone to call them thoughts. They were part of the bond between them. A day of hiding what they were to each other, a day of not touching, the knowledge that the next few days were going to be the same and this could be their last time alone created an urgency to be together that was primal. As soon as they were inside the store, their mouths were ravaging each other. Alistair’s hand reached under her skirt, under her smalls and found her already damp. A few strokes and he swallowed the small scream she made.

Panting, he stopped, “We need to talk.”

“Later,” she whispered into his ear. “I want you.” He groaned and once again found her mouth with his own. He couldn’t believe it when he heard her say, “Stop.” Then louder, “Stop!” Breathing heavily she stepped away from him to the store counter. Leaning back against it she looked him up and down. “Strip.” His eyes narrowed, wondering what game she was playing. “Earlier, you said you were mine to command. Now I command you to remove all your clothes.” She watched him with anticipation as he obeyed. She shivered at the positively wolfish look he was giving her. As soon as he was naked and standing proudly before her, she spoke, “Remove my clothes.” Eagerly he came forward, the heat in his eyes scorching. He reached forward but she shook her head, “you can’t use your hands. If you use your hands or can’t remove all my clothes I will have to punish you.” The look on her face told him she couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to fail or succeed.

Alistair braced his hands against the counter, on either side of his beloved. Starr was always ready to go along with anything he wanted to try, but she so rarely initiated anything new, he didn’t know where this was going but he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued.  He nuzzled her ear and whispered, “No hands?” She nodded and shivered as she always did; her ears were so sensitive to his voice and touch. “I can use anything else, my feet?” He rubbed his foot against her leg in a caressing motion. She nodded again. “My manhood,” he couldn’t help lowering his voice as he said the word and pushed his erection against the juncture of her thighs. She moaned before nodding. “My mouth?” he whispered, nuzzling her breast through her shirt and corset before taking it into his mouth, the texture of the fabric against her skin as he suckled sending bolts of electricity to her core. She couldn’t contain a whimper before gasping her agreement. “Good,” was all Alistair said before he got serious.

He looked carefully at her clothes. He thought the skirt would be easy, he didn’t see any fastenings. It looked like the belt was holding it in at the waist; if he removed the belt, he should be able to remove her skirt. He gave her other breast a lick and a promise before kneeling down to her waist, his hands sliding down the side of the counter keeping her enclosed. He started working on the belt, if he sometimes kissed her stomach through the fabric neither complained. When he rubbed himself against her leg, they both groaned at the friction. Alistair finally worked the belt loose, as he suspected the skirt was now going to be easy. He scraped his teeth against her sensitized skin before taking the waist of her skirt between his teeth. Slowly he pulled it away from her and down. Loosening it until it fell to the ground on its own. Her shirt was long, halfway down her thighs.

Maker’s breath, she was beautiful. Those long legs were begging to be worshipped. So he did. Starting with her ankles, he worked his way up, giving equal attention to each leg. When he kissed and sucked and teethed the sensitive skin at the back of her knees, she whimpered and her legs nearly gave way. He smiled against her trembling flesh and worked his way up her thighs and under her shirt. When he mouthed her mound through her smalls Starr had to bite her lips to keep from shrieking and bringing the night watch to the door. She couldn’t contain low cries and whimpers from escaping, however. The sounds she made were music to Alistair’s ears, and the aroma of musk and Starr intoxicated him contained as it was under the tent of her shirt.

She could feel him laughing as he seduced her. He stopped laughing when she hooked one leg over his shoulder and started lightly stroking his back with the heel of her shoe. Quickly he grabbed the top of her smalls in his teeth and started pulling them down. He bit the inside of her thigh that was on his shoulder. Taking the hint, she put her foot back on the floor. Smalls weren’t meant to slide down easily and Alistair had to work around them. Finally, they were on the floor and the two of them were panting.

Standing, he could see even in the low light of the lantern that her eyes were a brilliant purple. His hands remained on the counter as he began feathering kisses on her brow and down the length of her nose before capturing her mouth once more. Their tongues fought for dominance before she turned her head away. Gasping as he played with her ear, she moaned the words, “Remove my clothes or take your punishment.”

“Andraste’s breath, you’re killing me woman,” Alistair groaned. He looked at her; she was mocking him, _daring_ him. “You’re going to pay for this later.”

“Promises, promises. Decide. Now.” Starr was merciless.

Alistair bent his head down. There was no way he was going to be able to undo the fastenings on her shirt without using his hands. He raised his head and looked her in the eye. “You know I can’t, not without using my hands. I guess you’ll just have to punish me.”

She whispered in his ear, “Keep your arms straight and your hands on the counter.” Starr ran her hands down his chest. “I love how your nipples harden when I do this,” she lightly scratched her nails over the left one, “or this,” and then she swirled her tongue around the right nipple. She stood up, leaned back and pulled her shirt over her head. Without undoing the fastenings. She lifted herself on the counter, her breasts a scant inch from Alistair’s face, the light corset the only item of clothing between them. She trailed her fingers down the side of his face, “I want to feel your mouth on me.” While he eagerly complied, she worked on loosening her corset. As soon as she removed it, she slid off the counter. She kissed the corner of his mouth and massaged his chest with her hands. “I love the feel of your muscles under my hand, the way your chest hair trails down your stomach and lower,” her hands and mouth followed the trail. “I love how much you want me,” she licked him from base to tip before sliding between his legs and standing behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his chest, kissing his shoulders, and nuzzling his neck. “When you hold me, I feel so safe, so loved. You make me feel beautiful with a simple look.” She worked her way down until she was kneeling behind him. With one hand, she reached around to grasp his member, with the other she reached between his legs and gently cupped his balls. She stroked him as she nuzzled him. Alistair groaned in ecstasy.

“I have a confession to make. Long before Denerim you were driving me crazy, watching you walk ahead of me, your rear two firm crisp apples I just . . . wanted . . . to . . . bite,” Starr bit hard enough to leave a lasting impression and for him to cry out in surprise. His erection softened a little then got hard again under her ministrations. She started stroking him harder and gently kissing the bite, and sucking. “You know,” she whispered against his skin as she switched her hands and moved to his other cheek, “this side looks just as good as the other.” She bit him again and kissed and suckled. She snickered, “You now have the Starrelena Feyorlin seal of approval.” Then she slid back in front of him, “I love the taste of you.” She licked the moisture just dripping from him, then swirled her tongue around the tip before bringing him into her mouth. She grabbed his cheeks to hold him to her, her fingers lightly digging into the bitten areas.

He was trembling all over from the warmth of her mouth, her busy tongue and the way she was sucking him in deeper and deeper. The pain from her bites actually made the pleasure she was giving him more acute. When she had all of him, completely surrounding him, her lips touching the curls at his groin, he couldn’t hold back and let go. She swallowed every drop, then slowly and gently released him once he was spent, and moved her hands to the backs of his thighs and lightly stroked him in soothing motions. He had the random thought that he finally understood what Sarah and Alice had been telling him about a little pain sometimes adding spice. She leaned her head against the front of his thighs as her breathing grew steadier and less ragged. When he could speak, “Am I done being punished now?”

Starr chuckled weakly, “No more punishment.” Alistair reached down and pulled her up and they stood holding each other. Finally, she spoke up, “Maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together or we won’t survive the next few days.” She laughed, “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Alistair half-laughed, “I have a feeling that won’t be much of a problem now that Eamon is well and Teagan is getting married.” He loved holding her in his arms and stroking her hair. _“I envy Teagan. If I thought she was ready to hear it I’d ask her to marry me today. We’ve come so far together, hopefully it won’t be too much longer,”_ he thought. “About tonight, you’ve never been like this before.”

“Oh,” she turned bright red and hid her face in his neck, “when you said ‘command me’ I, I s-started thinking about you as my, as my sex slave. Was it, was it alright?”

“Now you get shy,” Alistair turned her face so he could look directly in her eyes. “You were so incredibly sexy, telling me what to do. The biting surprised me, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Just not too often or I won’t be able to sit down.” He laughed and let his thumbs caress her cheek, “I told you we need to talk. I don’t know if Elissa has told the others yet, she might wait until we’re on the road again.” He picked her up and sat her on the counter. “Eamon suggested, decided, wants me to be king. I don’t like it, but I understand his reasoning. Marcail should be king one day and this may be the best way to ensure that. Things may change and we don’t want Loghain to know so we’re keeping quiet for now, at least until a Landsmeet can be called.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Maker, what a mess. I wanted to make sure you heard it from me. No secrets, no surprises.”

Starr went absolutely still. “I see,” she said slowly. Eamon’s earlier remarks about doing the right thing made more sense. _“But it’s not Eamon’s decision. It’s Alistair’s and mine.”_ But . . . “You’ll be a good king, Stair. You’re a good man and a good leader, you’re smart and charming, and you have a good heart.” She couldn’t believe what she was about to say, “I won’t stand in your way. If you decide you would do better without me, I’ll understand. I’m part Dalish and I’m a commoner.”

“I will _never_ do better without you. Do you love me?” his hands were on her shoulders, almost shaking her.

“Yes, more than I thought possible.” She kissed the side of his face and put her arms around his neck.

“Then we’ll be fine. I appreciate the thought, sort of, but nobody is going to dictate who I choose to be with.” He sighed, he should get dressed. “It’s a long time off. We still have treaties to deal with and an army to prepare. We’ll be discussing strategy tomorrow. Dull, dull, dull.” He wasn’t ready to leave, though. “However, since this is the last time we’ll be alone and we won’t see much of each other in the very near future, we need to take full advantage of the opportunity, don’t you think?”

“Are you going to exercise your ‘royal prerogative,’ my king?” Starr whispered seductively. She squeaked in surprise when he quickly turned her and stretched her along the counter, holding her hands above her head with one hand.

“It’s my turn now,” he growled, “Close your eyes. Don’t talk or make a sound.” He didn’t speak or touch her until she complied. With his other hand, he traced the outline of her ear, fondling the lobe between his fingers. Her breath hitched but she remained quiet. He trailed his fingers along the side of her face and over her lips, parting them. She took his finger in her mouth and sucked, reminding him of where her mouth had been earlier. “You are so beautiful, your lips, your smile,” he moved his hand so his palm was just hovering over her breasts. She could sense him and ached for him to touch her. “Your breasts are truly magnificent. I love how full they feel when in my hands, how your nipples beg me to play with them.” He moved his hand when she started shifting restlessly. “Your muscles and the way they ripple under your skin,” now his hand was moving lower over her torso and his fingers started tracing patterns on her legs. “You have the sexiest legs, so long. I can’t get enough of the way they wrap around me and pull me in when I’m inside you.” Starr struggled not to whimper. When his fingers touched her nub and slid between her legs, one finger slipping inside she clenched. She wanted him so badly she had to bite her lip. Then a second finger and a third joined the first. He whispered against her ear, “You are so responsive to me; I can’t begin to tell you how special that makes me feel.” He flicked a nipple with his tongue, then took it into his mouth and gently suckled. When she started bucking, he moved his hands and placed them on her hips, holding her down until she stopped struggling. Then he swooped onto her bellybutton, his tongue laving the inside and driving her wild. He nipped, sucked and kissed while his fingers found their way back inside her and he began working her ruthlessly. He would bring her close and then back off. Tears were streaming from her eyes in frustration and she didn’t even notice he had turned her over until he bit her cheek. “Payback is a bitch,” he muttered as he kissed, sucked and nibbled the sensitive skin. His fingers were still inside, the different angle sending new waves of sensation up her spine. She arched her back when he bit her again, “and a pleasure.” This time she couldn’t stifle a moan.

It was as if he’d been waiting for that signal. He removed his fingers and lightly slapped her a few times over the bites, further sensitizing her entire rear. Then he hauled her up to a sitting position, her own weight causing her to shift in mild pain, yet she was so wild for him. “Open your eyes and put your arms and legs around me,” he commanded hoarsely. Then very slowly, he lifted her off the counter, hands cupping her buttocks, and moved her over his erection. Inch by slow inch he lowered her, her heels rubbing against the bite marks on his rear added an additional layer of sensation. Once she fully encased him, he held still and reveled in the heat of her, the way she tightened around him. Then he began moving. He swallowed her cries with his mouth. He pulled on her lower lip, and she was done. Neither of them held anything back. He turned around so he was leaning against the counter and she could lean against him as she slowly and carefully lowered her feet to the floor. He whispered in her ear, “I always thought of you as having two ripe peaches, bursting with juice and begging to be eaten.” She snickered contentedly.

It felt like hours but was only minutes before they felt enough energy to put on their clothes. At least Starr didn’t have to put everything on; she just had to go upstairs. Before he went out the door, he snaked his hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a hard, quick kiss. “I love you, Starr. Remember that. I’ll stay outside the door until I hear you lock it behind me.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. She locked the door behind him and slowly looked around the store making sure all was in order before she made her way upstairs with the lantern. Her bed was going to seem very lonely.

As soon as he heard the lock slip in place, Alistair slowly made his way to the edge of the lake. He was standing there thinking when Teagan found him. “Is all well, Alistair?”

“Bann Teagan! I thought you’d be back at the castle by now,” exclaimed Alistair.

“Just Teagan, Alistair.” He looked at the younger man, “Did you really think I’d already be at the castle?”

Alistair was grateful it was dark, he wondered if he would ever stop blushing. “No, I suppose not. Congratulations Teagan, Bella’s a nice woman and I hope you’ll be happy. And thank you for watching over Marcail.”

“Thank you, I think we will. Marcail’s a good lad; Starrelena has been a wonderful mother.” Teagan hesitated a moment, “Bella told me you were close but didn’t want to say anything so you and Marcail could get to know each other. I think you’re wise to be discreet for the boy’s sake. And your own.” They stood in silence for a moment, both men looking over the water. Finally Teagan broke the silence, “Alistair, I have no right to ask this but I do think Starr is an admirable young woman. Do you care for _her_ , or _Marcail’s mother?”_

Alistair looked at Teagan; Teagan had always been kind to him and had disagreed with Eamon and Isolde regarding his treatment. He could appreciate the distinction Teagan was making. “When I first saw her, I didn’t recognize her at first, just that she was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and looked vaguely familiar. She was helping the archers outside the Chantry. When she saw me, she smiled and hugged me; I couldn’t help putting my arms around. Do you know what I mean when I say it felt right for her to be there? As if something important fell into place that I didn’t realize was missing? Then she said my name, ‘Stair,’ and that’s when I realized who she was.”

“I see,” said Teagan, slowly. “Then do you mind if I ask why you haven’t asked her to marry you?”

Alistair was silent for some time. “Without breaking a confidence, there’s not much I can tell you. She was badly hurt a few years ago. There are scars.” The hiss of Teagan’s indrawn breath was his response. He smiled humorlessly, “If I thought she was ready I’d marry her tomorrow. For now, we love each other and I’m taking it one day at a time.”

“I will pray that you don’t have to wait too long, my friend. I’ve always thought you showed more promise than some were willing to acknowledge. I want you to be happy and I happen to believe that Starr is good for you, that you’re good for each other. Continue to be circumspect for the next few days, but when it’s time you’ll have my voice on your behalf.” He clapped his hand on the warrior’s shoulder, “Let’s head to the Castle. We’re all going to be busy the next few days.”

They made their way up the path, Alistair felt more comfortable knowing Teagan was on his side. They talked sporadically about the wedding and other topics, by mutual consent avoiding any more serious topics.


	41. Jumping to Conclusions

Teagan had sent messengers to Rainesfere asking his cook, housekeeper and seneschal of longstanding to come to Redcliffe so they could help with preparations for the wedding. They would stay awhile, helping get the Castle staff in order once the wedding was over. Villagers overcame their reservations about working there when they saw their Arl healthy and whole. A few of Ser Perth’s men didn’t stop helping Kaitlyn; one said her face was a lot prettier than their leader’s.

Starr and Alistair got some of Marcail’s things and settled him in his old room, and then all three of them walked up to the Castle together. “So, Marcail, after lunch why don’t you and I head out for some man time together?” Alistair asked the boy. “Is there anything you’d like to do, just you and me?”

“What about Mom?”

“I’ll be fine, go ahead and spend the afternoon with your father; I have to help get ready for the wedding. Bella wants me to stand with her. You and I will have the evenings together after dinner. I’ve missed you, you know.” Starr smiled down at her son. “Are you ready to dance? I bet your Aunty Bella will want to dance with you.”

“Mo-om! Hey, look, Connor and Bevin are with Ser Perth and Kinnon. Maybe he’s going to learn with us after all. Hey, Connor!” with that the young boy ran to meet his friends.

Alistair laughed and headed back to the Castle. Starr greeted the other two adults. “Good morning Tristan, nice to meet you Kinnon. I’m glad Connor has the chance to join his friends. I think Marcail has missed him.” She turned to his tutor, “How do you like Redcliffe, Kinnon? Or should I call you Enchanter?”

Kinnon shyly smiled at the beautiful woman in front of him, struck by her friendliness towards a mage. So different from the Arlessa. “I-it’s q-quite nice. K-kinnon is fine; I’m s-still only an apprentice.”

Starr smiled back at him and put her arm through his. “Let’s move over here so Ser Perth and the boys have plenty of room.” They walked closer to the windmill. Starr tried to put Kinnon more at ease. “You may still be an apprentice, but Wynne and the First Enchanter must think highly of you if they sent you here. I’ve learned a little while traveling with Wynne, I know there are different types of magic and a mage is usually stronger in one than another. What is your, is specialty the right word? Is it too soon to have an idea of where Connor’s strengths might lie?”

They spoke for several minutes while watching Ser Perth train the boys. Kinnon got over his nervousness and stopped stuttering. He was enjoying being out of the Circle, especially after the Uldred fiasco. And, he found it easy to talk to Starr; she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. They both agreed it was nice to see Connor so eager and happy to be doing something. When Starr left to go to the Castle, Kinnon watched her leave before turning his attention back to his charge. He couldn’t help sighing wistfully; pretty women didn’t usually talk to him much.

She started looking for Zevran as soon as she got to the Castle. Her first thought was to look in the kitchen; she wouldn’t be surprised if he was flirting with Kaitlyn, but he wasn’t there. Only Kaitlyn and Teagan’s cook, Pico, were there and all they could say was that they hadn’t seen him at all. She checked the main hall as well as the dining hall but no Zevran. She was about to go upstairs when tanned arms pulled her in and bent her backwards, forcing her to look into amber eyes, “Looking for me, comely cousin? Well, here I am.” He smiled luridly at her before letting her go.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble one day, you know,” Starr laughed.

“A little trouble adds spice, does it not? What can I do for you, lovely goddess of the sky?”

“Since we are going to be here a few days, I thought now might be a good time for my tattoo.” They stepped into the vacant chamberlain’s room and looked at her design. After discussing some changes, they agreed to meet again after lunch in her home over the store. Zevran went to his room and checked his supplies then came back downstairs. The meeting with Arl Eamon was breaking up, but as Alistair started to leave, the Arl stopped him. Zevran waited until Elissa and Teagan went past, then he quietly moved next to the study door once Eamon closed it again.

“Alistair, I know things were rough for you at Ostagar and I wanted to let you know how sorry I am about your losses.” Eamon’s tone was gentle, even kind.

_“First the buttering,”_ Zevran thought cynically.

“I, thank you, Arl Eamon,” Alistair said quietly.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Landsmeet,” Eamon continued.

Zevran smirked, _“Ha, and now the roasting begins.”_ He could hear Eamon pacing and Alistair fidgeting.

“Alistair, perception is important.” Eamon stopped pacing and looked directly at the young man in front of him. He smiled gently, but sadly. “In your case, perception is even more important because the most any will know of you is that you are Maric’s bastard. And you need to be in a position to build relationships with the nobles because in turn they will be able to help you once you are on the throne. Your loyalty is an attractive and valuable quality, but you need to be careful in the, mmm, _relationships_ you form. Do you understand what I’m saying, son?”

There was a long silence, finally Alistair answered so quietly that Zevran had to strain to hear, “I understand, my lord.” Zevran’s eyes narrowed in anger. He moved away from the door and hid in the shadows when he heard sounds of movement. Alistair came out, shutting the door behind him. He stood there, shoulders slumped, unaware of the contemptuous elf nearby. Slowly he walked to the stairs and disappeared. Zevran quickly and quietly followed him to his room. He didn’t shut it all the way in order to avoid alerting the warrior standing at the window, rubbing his forehead.

“So, all your talk of love goes out the window as soon as there is any opposition does it? Such devotion,” Zevran sneered.

Alistair whirled around, startled by the assassin at his back. “Maker’s breath, do you have to sneak up on me like that?” The import of Zevran’s words sank in, “You, you heard?” They looked at each for several minutes. Various emotions swam at the back of Alistair’s eyes, chief among them Zevran could have sworn he saw hurt. Could he possibly have misunderstood? Alistair saw the door was slightly open. This was not a conversation he wanted anyone to overhear. As he walked to the door he spoke over his shoulder to the smoldering elf, “I’m sorry, Zev, if you feel that way. However if you would please just listen . . .” when he reached the door he saw Arl Eamon in the hallway, looking at him, startled. An idea came to Alistair just then and he ran with it. “Is there something more you wanted, Arl Eamon?” Eamon shook his head and Alistair slowly closed the door in his face. He leaned against the door, looking at Zevran until he heard footsteps disappearing down the hall. Then he strolled over to the bed and stretched out, hands behind his head and looking at the ceiling.

Zevran was confused, “Alistair, you know he will think that you and I have been . . . close.” Alistair nodded his head, slowly. “You wanted him to think this?” Alistair nodded again. “Why?”

Alistair’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, “You’re so good at jumping to conclusions, figure it out, _friend._ ” He still looked at the ceiling rather than the elf.

Zevran stretched out next to Alistair and propped himself on his side so he could look the warrior in the face, “I, I believe I owe you an apology, Alistair. I thought you were agreeing to end your relationship with my lovely cousin instead of fighting for it. She would be immensely hurt by that as was I.” He actually cringed at the look of hurt and anger Alistair directed his way. “I should have known better, at least given you a chance to explain what you meant rather than assuming the worst. I am truly sorry, my friend, if I may still call you that.”

Alistair was quiet for some time before he answered. “Of course we’re still friends, Zev; I just thought you knew me better than that. I only told him I understood. Not that I agree or would do what he wants. I can hardly fight for a relationship that we’re keeping secret, can I? I suppose I should be grateful you care enough to defend her so quickly.”

Zevran rarely felt shame, but he felt ashamed then. “I am sorry, Alistair. You are a much better person than I am, I am not used to calling anybody friend. At least not someone who doesn’t want something in return. I do not know what I can do to repair my blunder.”

“We’re friends, Zevran. You’ve already apologized.” Alistair said tiredly.  “I think Eamon said something to Starr, last night she offered to step aside if I thought that was the best thing. When I saw Eamon outside, I had an idea.” He narrowed his eyes at Zevran, “And no joking about that. Eamon has certain ideas about what is suitable, I was angry and decided to let him think we were involved, not Starr and I. I don’t want him saying anything more to her. He may have controlled me when I was a child, but not now.”

“And if he thinks that I am the object of your affections, then he is more likely to be relieved rather than angry once you and Starr are ready to openly acknowledge your feelings for one another. That is actually rather devious of you, I’m impressed.”

Alistair blinked, “I didn’t actually think that far ahead. I’ll just go on pretending that Starr and I are not involved, and when the time comes, I’ll just tell him to stuff it. I should have done that anyway.”

“No Alistair, I think you made the right decision. Why risk alienating the man if you can avoid doing so. That would not be politic. Hmm, pretending to be your spurned lover could be fun; I’ll be discreet of course. We must restrict our playacting to Eamon alone. It would hurt your cause if others thought you preferred an elven male, even one so handsome as myself, over a woman as lovely as my cousin.”

Alistair frowned and muttered, “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? I just know I am.”

“Nonsense, it is all in a good cause.” With a mischievous smile, Zevran kissed Alistair on the cheek and lightly patted him on the groin. “I must be off, lunch will soon be waiting and then I have to see a woman about a tattoo.” He blithely rolled off the bed and skipped out of the room, leaving behind a worried templar.


	42. An Afternoon with Dad

Lunch was a hurried affair, and would be so until the wedding. Meat, cheese and bread were set out, as was a soup. People were to help themselves. This would make it easier on the kitchen staff so they could concentrate on the wedding and training new staff. Pico and Kaitlyn got along well, Kaitlyn felt comfortable asking the more experienced woman for advice and Pico enjoyed the opportunity to flex her culinary muscles. Teagan rarely entertained and preferred simple meals when dining alone. Alistair and Marcail made some sandwiches and left together, off to do manly things. Zevran made sure Eamon saw him looking wistfully after Alistair before turning his attention away. After lunch, a small group made their way to the store and Starr’s home: Starr, Zevran, Bella and Leliana. Elissa decided to practice with the knights at the Castle.

“This design of yours will take a few hours, I think. Not that I am complaining, mind you. A lazy afternoon spent in your company, you at my mercy, your skin under my hands as I work my magic, what could be better, no?” Zevran leered at Starr and wiggled his eyebrows.

Starr looked at Zevran, her face deadpan, “Are you saying it is beyond your, capabilities?” Leliana giggled at Zevran’s look of mock affront.

“Perish the thought, I am a master of many things, some of which you have yet to experience, my dear cousin,” Zevran purred. “First we must prepare the skin by massaging the oils of olives and roses into it. I told this to Alistair once, but he was reluctant to continue after that. I do not know why. Perhaps after seeing what I do with you, he will finally consent and then I will have had both of you under my hands. Ah, the anticipation.”

Bella didn’t know whether to laugh or be appalled. “Is he always like this?” she asked Leliana.

“Yes, it is very much a part of his, shall we way charm?” Leliana answered. “Zevran flirts the way most people breathe.”

“How you wound me, Leliana. Just for that no massage for you.”

They reached Starr’s home. At once Zevran took charge. “The light in here is good.” He moved a chair and arranged it just so. “You, bellissima, will sit here like so.” Once she was in place, he moved the table and another chair in place. “Ladies, you may sit where you like. As for you, my comely cousin, the shirt needs to come off.”

Starr got up and went into her bedroom. When she came out her shirt was on, backwards. Zevran pouted, and then sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. No joy for poor Zevran.” As soon as Starr sat down again, he pushed her shirt open and off her shoulders. He coated his hands and began massaging the oil into her skin, kneading the muscles. Starr groaned in pleasure. Zevran’s hands moved down her spine and lower back. He couldn’t help thinking that it might be for the best that they weren’t alone; otherwise, he might be tempted to do more. He let the chatter of the women act as background music as he concentrated. Once he felt her skin was fully prepared, he used ink and brush to draw the pattern on her skin.

“I thought you needed needles for a tattoo, not brushes,” Bella interrupted the conversation about her hair and the wedding when she noticed this.

“Ah, the needles they will come soon. Brushing the intricate design onto the lovely canvas of my cousin’s back will allow me to make any alterations that might be necessary before the permanency of the needles. The brushwork is a test of how well her skin will take the ink and will only remain for a few days. If the scars prove to be resistant I will find out now and can make adjustments.” Fortunately, Wynne’s healing was so effective that Zevran was not going to have to make too many changes. While Zevran concentrated on his work, the women discussed the upcoming wedding. He loved being around women, their voices, their scents and touch. The way they moved even when sitting, their laughter as these women were laughing now.

After lunch, Alistair and Marcail made some sandwiches to take with them as a snack before they headed out of the Castle. Alistair had his sword as well as bow and quiver, Marcail had a small bow. Alistair had already checked with Ser Perth about the area around Redcliffe so it should be safe enough for what he wanted to do. Together the man and boy left the village for the woods nearby. “Where are we going, Dad?” Marcail asked, though he really didn’t care. Spending the afternoon alone with his father was good enough for him.

“A place your mother and I found when I was nine. Keep an eye out for signs of wildlife, don’t want to step on snakes or anything. Do you know how to swim?” Alistair didn’t really think they would run into anything, but felt it was a good idea to emphasize being aware of your surroundings.

“Uh, I know a little swimming, maybe.” He wasn’t all that enthusiastic, swimming sounded too much like taking a bath to him.

Alistair laughed, “Don’t worry, I can teach you the basics. If you’re good enough, we can race. Your mom could swim like a fish.” They went a little further, “If I remember correctly we bear right once we get past that large tree and we should see a small clearing, although the woods can change a lot in over ten years.” When they got past the tree Alistair saw he was in luck and the clearing was still there and very little changed. He motioned Marcail to be quiet and pointed; a doe and her fawn were on the far side of the clearing. After seeing so much destroyed by the darkspawn, it was nice to see something so innocent and normal. The doe got wind of them and the deer bounded off into the woods. Alistair took Marcail’s hand in his and they moved forward. Only a thin strip of trees separated the pond from the clearing. A stream poured into it from one side and the overflow made its way to Lake Calenhad from the other. They moved toward a large flat rock next to the pond and sat down. Alistair removed his shirt and boots and neatly laid them next to the pack. “Let me go in first, see how deep it is, and then I’ll let you know you can come in.” He suited actions to words and waded in.

At its deepest, the water covered his shoulders; after diving to the bottom, he resurfaced closer to shore and motioned for Marcail to come on in. Following Alistair’s lead, he kept his cotton britches on and waded in towards his father. Alistair showed him how to float, and for a while that’s all they did, floating and identifying shapes in the clouds. Eventually Marcail showed Alistair what he knew and Alistair taught him some more. There was a great deal of laughing and sputtering, even yelling when Alistair threw him into the deeper water. Marcail never felt scared, his father was always there to make sure he was all right. The two of them had a lot of fun and Marcail admitted to himself that swimming really wasn’t like taking a bath after all. They came out of the water and lay on the flat rock, now toasty warm from the sun.

Alistair sat up and brought out the sandwiches they brought with them. They were both hungry after swimming, but one sandwich was enough for Marcail. He looked at Alistair as he was eating the rest, “Dad, what’s it like being a Grey Warden? I know you fight darkspawn and have to end the Blight, but what else? Do all Grey Wardens eat like you?”

Alistair had to laugh at that last question. “Yes, son, all Grey Wardens eat a lot. We have to. Part of becoming a Grey Warden is the ability to sense the darkspawn from a distance. Our bodies are always working, even when we sleep, using more energy than other people so we need more food to keep going.”

He munched thoughtfully on the last sandwich as he considered how to answer the rest of Marcail’s question. “What’s it like being a Grey Warden . . . for me I felt honored to be chosen. It’s not enough to be a strong warrior, or talented rogue or mage. Duncan, he was, was the Warden Commander for Ferelden and a good man. He said ability was important but not enough which is one of the reasons why every talented soldier isn’t selected or given the opportunity to join.” Marcail was looking at him with serious eyes, absorbing everything he said. “No matter their background, no matter their opinions or personalities, all of us knew the importance of fighting the darkspawn. That purpose united us and made us brothers. We knew we were needed. For the first time I felt that what I was doing was important, that what I did mattered.”

“So, do you fight a lot?” Marcail asked.

Alistair laughed, “Yes, we fight a lot. We sleep on the ground most nights; we walk a lot, miles in a day. With the defeat at Ostagar, we need another army to fight the darkspawn. Wardens are needed to figure out where they are, but any soldier can fight. When we find the Archdemon, Wardens are more important. Only a Warden can kill the Archdemon. We have treaties with the Circle of Magi, the Dalish elves and the dwarves of Orzammar. We’ve spoken to the mages, now we have to find the Dalish and go to Orzammar. I guess you could say we have to be ambassadors too. Elissa is much better speaking to people than I am, maybe because she was a noble and grew up learning how to deal with a lot of different people.” He thought about his life as a Warden before continuing, “It’s a hard life. There are more risks involved than there is being a soldier in the king’s army. Wardens are supposed to leave their old life behind them; nobles are no longer nobles for instance. The farmer’s son who becomes a Warden can never go back to the life of a farmer.”

“Does that mean you’re going to leave me behind?” Marcail asked quietly, trying not to cry.

“Maker’s breath, no!” Alistair grabbed his son to him in a bear hug and held on tight. “I love you so much. Maker, I think a part of me would die. I also made you a promise and I believe in keeping your promises. Some Wardens did have families. It was hard being away from them, just like it’s hard for me and your mom when we leave you in Redcliffe, but they didn’t _abandon_ them. Ferelden doesn’t have a Warden base anymore,” _“Loghain has certainly made sure the base in Denerim is destroyed by now.”_ “In other countries, the men’s families live near where they are stationed so they get to see them. When there’s no Blight, I think they live with their families most of the time.” He let go of Marcail enough to look him in the eye, “I meant they have to leave their titles and property behind. The farmer is no longer a farmer, the city guard is no longer a city guard, and a noble is no longer a noble. Do you understand the difference? Being your father is just about the best thing ever to happen to me.” he searched Marcail’s face, hoping he understood. It pained him that a clumsy explanation by him might have hurt his son or damaged the trust between them.

Marcail searched Alistair’s face carefully. Finally, he nodded his head and smiled, relieved. Alistair grinned back at him and hugged him again before ruffling his hair. “Ready to try some fishing? Let’s get a couple of lines ready then look for bait. Your mom and I sometimes came here fishing. She always made me bait the hook.” He had a chuckle in his voice when he admitted, “one time I dropped a crawler down her shirt just to see what she would do.”

“What did she do?” Marcail’s eyes were huge. This was a view of his mother he’d never had. It was hard to think of her as a kid like him.

“She jumped up and down, twisting herself inside out until she finally got it out. And her face got red; I mean on fire red, she was so mad at me. As soon as that bug was gone, she hit me and pushed me in the water. Your mother has a temper, she controls it most of the time, but it’s there. She didn’t talk to me for **two** days.” Alistair and Marcail laughed at the image created by Alistair’s story. When they finished laughing, Alistair admitted he never did it again. “Once was enough for me. Now these lines are ready, let’s see what kind of bait we can find, shall we?” They spent the rest of the afternoon fishing, practicing their archery, and fishing again. By the end of the day, they had a number of fish to take back to Marcail’s mom. They even found some ripe juicy berries and filled the now empty sandwich pack with them.

Alistair remained outside with the fish while Marcail went upstairs to get his mom. Bella was already gone but Zevran and Leliana were still there with Starr. All four of them came down to see Marcail and Alistair’s prowess for themselves. “Marcail, I believe that if you wanted you would possibly make a good living as a fisherman. There are many places in Orlais where fish is preferred over meat,” Leliana exclaimed. “And Alistair, perhaps we need to use these talents of yours more often.”

“Yes indeed, lovely Leliana. Alistair could catch the fish and I could explain to bellissima how to make Antivan fish stew.”

Starr had ignored both her friends, as she looked at all the fish they caught. “There’s enough here for all of us, if you and Leliana would care to stay for dinner, Zev. It will be a simple meal, but you’re more than welcome. And I mean you too, Stair, so don’t pout.” Alistair looked offended at the suggestion he might pout and Marcail giggled. “You could start teaching Marcail how to clean fish, if you don’t mind. He might as well know the less glamorous side of fishing.”

Leliana declined to stay for dinner, but she agreed to help Starr gather some items from abandoned gardens nearby.  Zevran watched Alistair and Marcail for a few minutes, and then decided to get some ale or wine from the tavern for dinner. Dinner was a simple but merry affair. Since Zevran picked up ale and beer, Starr made a thin beer batter to coat the fish before frying. She used some of the berries in biscuits and lightly sautéed the greens and vegetables she found. After dinner, they had the rest of the berries. Zevran entertained them with some of his milder adventures in Antiva and his first impressions of Ferelden.

“Why do you call Mom bel-bellisma?” Marcail asked Zevran. Alistair was helping Starr clean up as he usually did in camp, leaving the boy and the assassin alone.

“Bellissima. Your mother is a very beautiful woman is she not? I am sure your father agrees with me,” Zevran answered. “She is also my friend. Roughly translated, bellissima means beautiful one in my language. It is a term of affection, of regard.”

“You don’t call Aunty Bella bellissima,” the boy observed.

“This is true. I do not know her that well; she is your mother’s friend and not mine. As a woman about to be married, and one I do not know, it would not be respectful to call her that even though she too is a woman of loveliness. Perhaps it is not even necessary since her name is Bella which is not so different after all.” Zevran was mildly amused by the boy’s questions. The only children he had been around were at the whorehouse and with the Crows, all of them much older than their years. Marcail still had much of the innocence generally associated with childhood, conversing with him was a novelty.

“You have tattoos on your face,” Marcail stated. Zevran lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgement, wondering where this was going. “I haven’t seen any elves who weren’t Dalish with tattoos, and you aren’t Dalish.”

“You have seen many elves who weren’t Dalish then? Many have tattoos, humans, elves and dwarves.”

Marcail mulled over this information. “Did it hurt?”

“Very much, the skin of the face is sensitive. I have other tattoos, many of which did not hurt nearly so much.”

Marcail came over and looked closely at Zevran’s tattoos. He reached his hand up to Zevran’s face then stopped. “May I touch them?” At Zevran’s nod, he carefully traced the lines on the elf’s face and then sat back down. “And they don’t hurt at all now?” Zevran shook his head. “Why did you get them?”

“That, my young friend is a fair question. Many in the guild to which I once belonged have tattoos. I got these because they emphasize my dashing good looks and are intriguing to women. Did you never ask these questions of the Dalish when you lived with them?”

“Nah, I was little then.” Zevran carefully kept the amusement he felt from showing. “Were you at Ostagar with my dad?”

Zevran considered how to answer. “I have never been to Ostagar, my path crossed that of the Wardens and I have traveled with them ever since. For which decision I am eternally grateful.”

“How did your paths cross?”

_“Braska! This interrogation, by a child no less, is getting tricky.”_ Zevran didn’t want to worry Marcail by telling him his parents were traveling with an assassin hired to kill his father, but this boy would be king one day. Was it too early for him to be aware of some of the dangers posed by men? “I was hired by men named Loghain and Howe to stop the Wardens. I was unsuccessful in the attempt and we all agreed that I would join their cause.”

“You were going to kill my dad?” Marcail was visibly distressed and Zevran didn’t know what to do. Marcail stuck his chin out pugnaciously, “Do you plan to try again?”

“No, no. I swore an oath to support the Grey Wardens, to help them with the Blight. I never swore an oath to Howe or to Loghain. I promise you this, I will never turn against your mom or dad, and will defend them with my life if need be. I, Zevran Arainai, swear to this.” Zevran had never been more solemn in his life.

Marcail looked at him for some minutes. In that time, Zevran had a glimpse of the man waiting inside the boy and felt Ferelden might be quite fortunate in its rulers. “Ok.” Marcail finally broke the silence. “But if you break your promise, watch out.” The words might have been childish but the intent was not and Zevran fully appreciated the difference.

“You would be right to do so. And here are your handsome parents-” Zevran broke off when Marcail ran to Alistair and hugged him.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” Alistair asked, getting to his knees to look into his son’s face.

“I don’t want you to die, I don’t want Loghain and Howe to hurt you anymore, I don’t want them trying to kill you,” Marcail sobbed. Alistair and Starr looked at Zevran, who felt and looked guilty and miserable, for some sort of explanation.

“I am truly sorry my friends. My training did not include interrogation by children, and I have failed you. He wanted to know how we met, Alistair.” Zevran had no idea how to fix the situation.

Understanding dawned on Alistair’s face. “Ah,” he said, and then looked into Marcail’s face. He smiled, “I appreciate how much you care, but you don’t need to worry. If Zev’s the best they can do . . .” he let his voice trail off and shrugged. Marcail hiccupped and snickered.

“You wound me! You Fereldens are so cruel.” With one hand clutching his heart and the other at his forehead in sorrow, Zevran fell backwards into his chair. Marcail rewarded his dramatics with a watery smile. After that, the group talked for a short while longer. Starr told Marcail that Zevran was their cousin and told them the story of how her grandmother and her first husband met the human who would become her second husband. Zevran remarked that it sounded a bit like how Starr met Cailan at Ostagar and of course had to relate the incident to Marcail with all the flourishes he could think of. Marcail howled with laughter at the image of his mother, the king of Ferelden, and Loghain flailing about in the mud.

Alistair and Zevran left after that, though the Castle didn’t hold any welcome for either of them. If it wouldn’t hurt Starr, they would have been happy to sleep on the floor. Alistair was reflecting on how well the day with Marcail had gone. It looked like the next time they were in Redcliffe he and Starr could be honest about their relationship. He’d be a lot more comfortable in more ways than one.

Zevran was contemplating the tricky navigation involved in raising a child. And yet, and yet he didn’t know if he envied Starr or not. Did he want the same thing for himself? Since it would involve a close relationship with the mother, he was not sure it would be possible. He wondered what his life would have been like if his own mother had lived. _“Zevran, your life is what it is. These melancholy what-ifs do not suit you,”_ but he remained pensive.

Starr kissed Marcail goodnight and puttered around, getting a few things done. She wished she, Alistair and Marcail could live together as a family. Was she ready for all that would entail if Stair became king? Or if he didn’t become king? She could admit to herself that she was a little scared, but she could also admit to herself that she didn’t want to live without him in her life. She’d never felt as alone as she did when she finally went to bed and he wasn’t there.

Marcail looked at the statue his father gave him and made some decisions of his own. First, he needed to talk to Bevin.


	43. Cornered

It had been a beautiful wedding, as weddings go, Zevran mused. The bride and groom were quite lovely. Of course, not even the beauteous Bella was nearly as lovely as his adored cousin was. Starr could try to downplay her looks as much as she wanted but she would always be the most beautiful woman in the room. Alistair thought so too judging by the way he tried not to watch her rather than the bride and kept shifting in his seat trying to be comfortable. Zevran was probably the only one in the audience who realized the poor man was hard as a stone. Zevran chuckled to himself as he remembered patting Alistair on the knee and suggesting he think of Eamon and Isolde. It worked, but he didn’t know if Alistair would forgive him for those images.

The newlyweds were in their new home, romantically decorated with flowers, sweet herbs and candles by Starr, Elissa and Leliana. They were also well provisioned with cold foods, good wine (courtesy of Eamon’s cellar) and some of Starr’s honey-chocolate goodies. And a _decorative_ chocolate sauce Starr added at the last minute. The celebration at the tavern was still going on and would probably continue until morning, a welcome respite from the troubles in the land. The young, and not so young, single men of the village were keeping Starr and the other young women busy on the dance floor. Alistair got to dance with her once before Ser Perth, Murdock and others claimed a turn. In keeping with their desire to keep their relationship hidden he danced with all the other single women as well, even Morrigan. It surprised many of the villagers that the former templar danced so well and several young women looked at him speculatively after that. Zevran enjoyed himself when not dancing by making sure that Eamon frequently saw him next to Alistair, close and just edging over the border of propriety. Alistair caught on to what he was doing and snorted in amusement.

But now, he was enjoying the cooler air under a clear sky. He had walked towards the windmill and was looking out over the water when he heard quiet footsteps in the brush. Automatically he readied his daggers while maintaining his air of innocent bystander as he casually moved to put the mill at his back. From there he would have a clear view before anybody got close. When Marcail and Bevin made their appearance, he relaxed and put away the blades.

“So, my young friends, what brings you out here? I thought you would still be trying to get more sweets or sneaking sips of Lloyd’s ale,” Zevran cocked an eyebrow at the boys and half smiled at the two friends.

“Bevin and I were talking. We wanted to talk to you about getting married.” Marcail stated nervously but determinedly.

Zevran was thunderstruck. He never would have expected this. In the silence Bevin rushed to explain, “I heard some of the women talking. They said if anybody knew their way around a woman it was you. I don’t really know what they meant by that, but we figured that meant you were the person we should talk to.”

Cautiously, Zevran replied, “Do you not think, my young friends that perhaps Starr or Alistair are the people to whom you should speak?”

“No way! And you’re family.” Marcail was quite stubborn when he wanted to be.

“Very well,” Zevran sighed, “let us sit here and you can ask your questions.” The boys sat down facing him before he added, “But I do not promise that I will answer them.”

Marcail and Bevin looked at each other, then at Zevran and nodded. “Before everybody got to eat, Aunty Bella and Teagan kissed, on their mouths.” Both boys looked disgusted at that. “Do married people have to do that? And what about later, do they still have to do that?”

_“Blessed Maker, Zevran Arainai, you better be careful.”_ Swallowing hard, he answered, “Yes, most married people do indeed kiss like that after the ceremony, especially if they are lucky.”

“Eeuw, gross,” both boys cried in unison. Zevran was amused and noticed that Bevin was not as vocal in his disgust as the younger boy. Marcail thought for a moment, “And they _like_ it?”

Zevran didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but restrained himself from doing either. “If they like each other enough to get married it is fair to say that they like the kissing.”

“Huh,” Marcail said and Zevran could hear Alistair in that one syllable. “And after they’re married, they sleep together? In the same bed?”

Bevin hesitantly interrupted, “I don’t think they just sleep, Marc. Sometimes I heard sounds from Mom and Dad’s room.” The boy’s face was red as he said the last.

Marcail looked at his friend, “You mean they might have been doing more kissing stuff?” Bevin just shrugged. Marcail looked at Zevran, “Zev?”

Zevran looked at Marcail and tried to think of a way to answer which wouldn’t get him in trouble with either Starr or Alistair. Fate was indeed a tricky whore, he thought sourly. “It is a normal thing for a man and woman who are married to share a bed, and there will likely be more ‘kissing stuff.’ Why are you asking these questions?”

“So if Mom and Dad got married, they would have to sleep together and do kissy faces? Mom would need a bigger bed.” Marcail thought some more and took a deep breath, “Well, if they like it, I guess it’s okay.” Zevran decided silence was his best option at the moment. “If they got married, we’d be a real family and Dad could stay with us.”

Zevran nodded his head slowly before he answered, “You are already a family, but if your parents got married then all three of you could live together, if that is what they want. Is that what you want?” Marcail’s head bobbed up and down so hard the elf was surprised it didn’t fly off his neck. “I see. Have you talked to your mother about this?”

“I know she likes my dad. I asked him once if he was going to marry Mom. He said,” Marcail scrunched up his face as he tried to remember exactly what Alistair had said. “He said they were best friends but had to get to know each other again. That ‘marriage is a very special relationship; you have to be ready to share everything, much more than just friends, to like each other in a special way.’ I thought you might know if maybe, maybe they were?”

Zevran was in a quandary. _“Definitely for the rest of my stay I will avoid being alone where children can ask me difficult questions.”_ He was also touched that the boy came to him. He started to speak, then stopped and started again. “Your parents are very good friends, this is true. I have no reason to believe they like anybody else in a ‘kissy face’ way. But I cannot give you the answer you want.” It bothered him to see Marcail’s face fall. “There friendship is still renewing and growing. I can tell you this much, it is not impossible for it to happen but they will be very sure it is the right thing for them and for you before they make that decision. It would not be fair to them or to you to rush something so important.”

“So it could still happen?”

Warily Zevran answered, “Ye-es, it could. It is only a possibility, mind you.”

Marcail narrowed his eyes in concentration, “But maybe isn’t a no. Okay, I know what I gotta do. Thanks Zev.” Marcail and Bevin hurriedly went back to the party. Maybe there was more cake. Zevran followed more slowly, there better be more wine, a lot more wine.

When he got back to the party, it was much smaller. Starr was dancing with Lloyd and Alistair was trying not to glare. Luckily, Eamon and Isolde had already left, or Zevran’s efforts on the young warrior’s behalf would have been for naught. Zevran didn’t miss the fact that Lloyd sometimes glanced warily at Alistair and wondered what that was about. Shortly after that, the Wardens and companions walked Starr and her son home before heading off to the Castle. They were all in a good mood, even Sten. At least, he didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. Alistair was also quiet, but the women were chatting about how nice it was to see some happiness for a change. Elissa and Leliana looked at Alistair sometimes with curiosity, but they were almost at the Castle before they said anything.

“Alistair, you’re awfully quiet, is something wrong?” Elissa asked her friend and comrade. He just shook his head and smiled a little.

“You did not seem too happy with Lloyd. He seemed quite nervous when he looked over at you while dancing with Starr.” Leliana looked at him thoughtfully. He scowled at the reminder. “I recall that last time we were in Redcliffe you said something to him which turned him quite green. After we told you about his less than gentlemanly conduct. We were quite curious at the time.”

Even Wynne had to know, “Yes Alistair, what _did_ you tell him?”

Alistair looked somewhat sheepish but not at all sorry when he told them. “I asked him if he knew much about darkspawn. Of course he said ‘no.’ Then I asked if he knew what they did to men they captured when they had plenty of time, instead of in battle. He didn’t. So, I told him that sometimes they captured a man and tied him up. Then they slowly peeled the skin from his, his privates, one layer at a time and ate it. It was kind of a sport to see how long the man would last. I told him if he didn’t keep his hands to himself and treat women with respect I would drop him down the nearest darkspawn hole I could find.”

The rest of them looked at him in utter silence. Sten was the first to speak, “That was, creative.”

“Yes, Alistair, I had no idea you were so imaginative. Starr is perhaps more fortunate than I thought,” Morrigan commented slyly, making Alistair blush.

Wynne didn’t know whether to look appalled, impressed, disgusted or amused. Leliana and Elissa were laughing so hard they had to hold each other up. Zevran was momentarily horrified, “I have never heard this. There is no truth in that statement is there?” He was worried; after all fighting darkspawn is what they did. Zevran was still off balance from his conversation with Marcail or he would have never asked the question.

Alistair snorted, “Of course not.” Zevran’s obvious relief had all the women laughing; Elissa even had tears coming down. Alistair sighed, “I suppose I’ll have to tell him I made it up. One day. But not now.”


	44. Swords

At Eamon’s suggestion, they had stayed in Redcliffe two days after the wedding. Apparently, some of his scouts were due to return soon and the Arl felt they should see if they had any useful information. Eamon’s scouts reported there was some sort of disturbance on Bann Loren’s land. Since Loren had, for the moment, allied himself with Loghain, Eamon felt they might get something useful if they investigated further. The Wardens concurred. Since they needed to get some supplies at the Circle, it was convenient that Loren’s lands were near Lake Calenhad. If nothing came of their investigation, they would continue to Orzammar with their treaty.

As soon as they were out of sight of Redcliffe, Alistair pulled Starr into his arms and kissed her with all the pent up fervor of the last few days. Sten didn’t approve of his lack of self-control, but even he had to smile (almost) when Alistair came up for air exclaiming, “Whew, needed to get that out of my system!” He grabbed Starr’s hand and held onto it before she could punch him. Alistair kept holding her hand for the next few miles before letting go; it just felt nice to be able to touch even in the smallest and most innocent way after days of pretending to be less than they were. Marcail didn’t make it any easier. After the wedding, he dropped broad hints about how nice it would be if the three of them could be together instead of Alistair living apart from them. He even told Alistair during one of their ‘manly’ outings that it was ok with him if he and Starr wanted to do kissy face things. _“Kissy face things? Never heard it called_ that _before, but at least I know he approves of us and wants the three of us to be together. Now to convince his mother . . .”_

As they neared Lake Calenhad and Bann Loren’s lands, they split into two groups. Sten, Griffon and the two mages would go to the Circle Tower and get the supplies that Wynne and Morrigan needed while the rest of them would investigate whatever was happening on Bann Loren’s lands. The plan was to meet up at the Spoiled Princess by nightfall the following day. Elissa led the way through the woods, trying to find the source of the disturbance reported by the scouts. Quietly they moved through the trees. Hearing something, they climbed a hill and looked down into a small clearing. A man wearing the uniform of King Cailan’s honor guard lay on the ground at the feet of a group of Bann Loren’s men. At Elissa’s signal, they attacked the guards. It wasn’t long before all of Loren’s men lay dead on the ground and they could see to the unconscious man. Starr and Elissa reached him first and Elissa recognized him; his name was Elric Maraigne and he was indeed part of Cailan’s honor guard.

Upon reviving, Elric looked at the two people nearest him and was able to focus after a few minutes. “You, you’re Duncan’s new recruit,” he turned his head to Starr, “and you’re Cailan’s Mudbird.” Starr flushed and could hear Alistair and Fen snickering in the background. Elric either ignored or didn’t hear them, “If people like you found me, then the Maker has a sense of humor.” Alistair quickly stopped snickering as Elric told them about the King’s chest, and that it was important.

“Cailan kept Maric’s sword in that chest, he was going to use it to kill the Archdemon. You’re not going back without me,” Alistair stated firmly. Elissa nodded her head in agreement. They couldn’t help Elric; they could only give him some comfort and company while he drew his last few breaths.

When they left the area to head back to the Lake Calenhad docks and the Spoiled Princess, Starr and Alistair were in the rear. Alistair slid an arm around Starr’s waist to bring her closer to him. “So, Starr,” he nibbled on her ear, “would you be _my_ mudbird?”

Starr narrowed her eyes at him, “I can certainly make sure to find some mud for you, Stair. I can already picture it oozing into your boots and gloves and under your armor until it slides into your smallclothes.”

Alistair decided to ignore her threat. “Speaking of armor, I really like this set,” his hand slid down until he could give her ass a firm and playful squeeze through the chainmail. “Owen did a really nice job altering it for you, how do you like it?” _“And please say you like it,”_ Alistair thought _. “Owen must have been a ladies’ man in his younger days. I don’t know what he did, but not only is she able to move, it flatters her length and emphasizes her curves. Her breasts and what it does for her rear . . .”_ He squeezed again.

“Owen did a really nice job fitting it for me, even though I asked him to open it up in front a little which meant he had to add a neckpiece. It moves as well as my Dalish but is heavier and warmer. I may still need my furs in the Frostback Mountains, though. It’s nice to have two good sets. I’ve never had that luxury before,” Starr added, a little breathlessly.

“You know we’ll probably stay at the inn tonight. We might even have to share a room,” Alistair said in a low voice and rubbed his face against her hair, breathing in her scent.

“We might. Whatever will we do?” she said teasingly as she left him to move up with Fen and Elissa in front.

Zevran fell back in step with Alistair. His eyes were full of masculine approval as he drank in the sight ahead of him, “That, my friend, is what I call a very sexy set of armor. And yet, it manages to exude an air of dignity at the same time. This Owen is quite talented. I wonder if my comely cousin realizes just how much her, hmmm, _assets_ are accentuated,” Zevran mused, his Antivan accent particularly heavy.

“I hope not,” muttered Alistair. “She might stop wearing it.” The two men looked at each other in agreement that such an event would be a terrible thing to happen.

They quickly reached the docks and found the rest of their party already waiting. Since there was still plenty of daylight left, Elissa decided they should move on after getting something to eat at the Princess. Elissa sat with Sten. Their conversation appeared to be serious, so nobody interrupted them. Afterwards she announced they were going to an area nearby to see if they could find a sword and dared anybody to say anything.

It was the area where darkspawn attacked Sten and his fellow Qunari. The only thing they found was a scruffy, odd little man looking through rubble and dirt while muttering to himself. When Elissa spoke to him, he jumped up and spat at her to ‘back off.’ “This is mine, I own the rights to it fair and square,” he stuck out his chin. After a somewhat lengthy process of unruffling his feathers, he was calm enough for coherent conversation.

“Did you find a Qunari sword?” Elissa asked politely, wishing they were upwind of the strange man.

“Nah, didn’t find nuffing except some torn up bits of somefing. I was cheated; this wasn’t supposed to be picked clean already. Damn that Faryn! He’s the one what might have what yer looking for. He’s a squirrelly little man, bet he’s at Orzammar by now. Tell ‘im I sent you, that’ll put a twist in his smalls. Rotten cheat,” the man turned his back on them and continued trying to find something previous scavengers had missed.

Elissa looked up at Sten, “I’m sorry, Sten. Maybe we’ll find it when we get to Orzammar. For once Fate is smiling kindly on us and we won’t actually have to make any detours.” Sten grunted in agreement. Looking to the others, she directed them onwards.

Alistair spoke up then, “Elissa, I think we should make for Sulcher’s Pass. We can make good time to that point and it’s a good gateway to the Frostback Mountains and the dwarves. I’ve actually been there on training exercises a few times.”

“Then lead the way, Alistair. Starr, you and Fen do your scouting thing and the rest of us will follow,” Elissa commanded. She fell back with Leliana and Wynne as Alistair took charge. He calmly explained the route, what they might find on the way, and didn’t even complain that he couldn’t lead them to lunch. He was a welcome contrast to the insecure man, boy really, that she first met. She hoped he never lost that goofy sense of humor, though.

They made good time in the remaining daylight before setting up camp. And if dinner seemed more rushed than usual and Alistair and Starr retired to their tent rather early, nobody commented beyond indulgent smiles or knowing smirks and eye rolls.


	45. Hello Golem, Goodbye King

Elissa never should have said anything to tempt Fate. As soon as they got to Sulcher’s Pass, they ran across a merchant in trouble. He had a control rod for a golem and wanted to get rid of it before he got robbed _because_ of it. He showed them where Honnleath, home of the golem, was on the map. Left to themselves the Wardens looked at the map and discussed what they would do next. After some debate they decided to go to Honnleath next, maybe having a golem with them would be helpful when they talked to the dwarves, from Honnleath they’d return to Ostagar and then go to the dwarves.

Honnleath looked like an ordinary, quaint little village, tucked away to the south of Redcliffe. After dispatching the darkspawn, shades, wraiths and a desire demon, they left Honnleath with a caustic golem with an unexpected will of its own and an intense hatred for birds. Shale, for that was the golem’s name, had no love for darkspawn either and was willing to accompany the Warden even if Elissa was just a soft, squishy creature. At least for now.

At camp that night, Starr walked over to where Shale was standing apart from them all. “Shale,” Starr hesitated, not quite sure how to address a golem, “I don’t know much about golems. I understand you don’t need to eat, but is there anything you do need? Is there something that might make you more comfortable? I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

“Can it eliminate those foul beings of the sky?” Starr shook her head, smiling slightly. “Then no, I do not need anything. I am a golem. I do not eat or sleep, so there is nothing I need. If it has no more questions . . .” Shale cut off any further attempts at conversation. Starr nodded and left Shale to go back to her, their, camp where Alistair was waiting. She was unaware the golem was watching her and then in turn watched the others.

It only took a day and a half to get to Ostagar from Honnleath. They entered near where the King’s war council had been. It was cold and covered in snow, the marks of darkspawn everywhere they looked. For a moment Elissa, Alistair, Starr, Wynne and Griffon looked around as they remembered the hopes and preparations of the army and Wardens. So many dead. Nothing was left untouched, even the Quartermaster’s forge had been turned into something else, a mockery of an altar perhaps? The darkspawn didn't leave them to their thoughts for long; a small committee welcomed them with open swords and flying arrows. Shale may not have been controlled by any of them, but the golem certainly knew how to fight. Thirty years standing still didn’t seem to have dulled its abilities. They were all going to have to learn how to avoid being hit by some of the flying rocks, though.

Alistair was looking down at the fallen darkspawn commander. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry to see the creature wearing a piece of Cailan’s armor. He knew he said something but didn’t know what, nor did he know what Wynne was saying. He felt a hand slip into his and looked to his side, at Starr. He could see his sorrow mirrored in her face as she watched him. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching and took a deep breath, “Let’s get this off of the creature. I will not leave Cailan’s armor in their hands if I can help it. He deserves better.” Together they retrieved the items and joined Elissa where she was standing, at the site of her Joining. She was holding a chalice in her hands, turning it over and over as she recalled what happened that day. Griffon was whining at her feet.

Progress through Ostagar was slow, as more darkspawn appeared every few paces. Obviously, they were keeping a base here. Finally, they cleared the camp areas and found the key Elric spoke of. The Wardens accompanied only by Zevran and Starr approached the royal chest. Zevran immediately coveted Maric’s sword, which was indeed a work of art. They also found the correspondence Elric mentioned; Alistair was looking it over as Elissa searched the chest and found some more papers. She read the top one and her jaw clenched, _“That bitch, all ‘I love you, Stair’ when all the time . . .”_ She had no more time to read when the papers were snatched from her grasp.

“What is it that has upset you, my dear Warden?” Zevran asked. He looked at the papers she had been reading and his eyes widened. “Oho, what is this? Alistair, my friend, I think you should see this. And you as well, my comely cousin.” He led Elissa a short distance away after the templar took the documents from him. Alistair wrapped his arm around Starr as together they silently read the top document.

_“I, Cailan Theirin, King of Ferelden, do hereby name Marcail Alistair Feyorlin, current resident of Redcliffe, my son and heir to the throne of Ferelden. Should I perish before he reaches the age of five and twenty, I do hereby name as co-regents Alistair Theirin, brother and Grey Warden, and Starrelena Feyorlin, resident of Redcliffe, current scout for the King’s army, and mother of the aforementioned Marcail Alistair Feyorlin. Also . . . .”_

There was more, but the essence was that Cailan claimed fatherhood and named Marcail heir to the throne. There was even a seal at the bottom, where the Revered Mother assigned to the army had witnessed the document. With trembling fingers, Starr traced the words on the page as a single tear trickled down her cheek. “I never expected this,” she whispered. “Cailan never said anything any of the times we talked. Oh, Stair,” she turned into his embrace.

“He was a good man, I wish I’d gotten to know him better,” Alistair’s voice was rough as he hugged Stair to him. “We’ll need to keep this for Marcail, when he’s older. He should know his father was a good man who cared about what happened to him.”

“Both his fathers,” Starr corrected him and gently caressed his cheek.

Alistair smiled and kissed her, “Both his fathers. There are other papers here, but let’s look at them tonight when we don’t have darkspawn to kill. I hate it when they interfere with my concentration.”

Elissa had been watching them, anger changing to confusion when Alistair didn’t seem to be upset. “You thought, perhaps, that my lovely cousin had been lying to her templar, Warden?” Zevran asked in a dry tone. Elissa just looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “It’s true that such has been done before, for many reasons. But, surely, you realize that even if you were correct it would not be for some devious or sinister purpose? Come, let us rejoin your fellow Warden and continue on.” Elissa resolved to put the matter aside until later.

They were on the bridge to the Tower of Ishal to track down more darkspawn when they were stopped by Cailan. Eyes full of anger and horror Alistair, Starr and Elissa stared at their king. Rather they stared at the macabre statue of him. Darkspawn had posed his naked body on a post in the middle of a bridge where a statue once stood. Blood and filth covered him, and it looked like they used his body for target practice. Some obscene magic kept his body from decaying and the expression on his face was mockingly peaceful. Shaking with anger and determination Alistair promised his brother they would come back after routing the darkspawn and send him to the Maker with dignity. Turning away from the sight, they saw more darkspawn at either end of the bridge; one of them was a necromancer who animated some of the skeletons littering the bridge.

They battled their way to the Tower, finding everything except Cailan’s helmet on different darkspawn officers. Seeing the necromancer run into the Tower, they followed suit. “Oh good, more darkspawn. I was about to think we’d run out,” Alistair snorted. Fighting their way further in, they nearly fell into a large hole. Alistair couldn’t help commenting, “Ugh, down instead of up, I don’t want to think about what we’ll find down there.” He led the way in.

Underground they found a few darkspawn, a lot of spiders and no sign of the necromancer. With every death of the eight-legged creatures anybody nearby could hear Starr mutter, “I **hate** spiders.” They found a tunnel leading out to the battlefield where Cailan and Duncan died with most of the army and other Grey Wardens. Starr watched Alistair in sympathy as he and  Elissa remembered the deaths. Well, she watched until that necromancer reanimated the ogre who killed both the King and the Warden-Commander. It attacked, with Duncan’s blades still sticking out from its hide. They destroyed it and finally killed the necromancer, who had Cailan’s helmet. Alistair took the blades from the ogre’s body before they returned to take care of the fallen king.

The rest of them stood to the side as the Wardens, Wynne and Starr approached the body of King Cailan. _“So young and eager,”_ Wynne thought, _“such a waste. So much life not lived.”_

_“He was so friendly when I arrived. It was nice to see such a sunny face, Duncan may have understood but I doubt anybody ever called him ‘sunny’ or welcoming. Cailan made me feel better, not just because he promised support against Howe for murdering my family, he was so enthusiastic.”_

Alistair stood there, looking somberly at his brother. _“I wish now I had gotten to know you better. I know we were both busy, but I wonder if I couldn’t have made more of an effort. Or was I hampered by resentment? Starr liked you, I feel I know you better through her.”_ He thought about the two of them for a moment. _“Thank you for being kind to her, by the way. I can’t help if I feel a bit jealous, but maybe if you hadn’t been good to her she and I wouldn’t be together now. You couldn’t have known how badly those bastards would treat her. I will do everything in my power to make her happy and be a good father to Marcail. You’d like Marcail; he’s great and a son to be proud of. I’m honored that you saw fit to make me co-regent.”_

_“Oh, Cailan,”_ Starr felt like crying, _“you shouldn’t have died. You were so kind to me years ago when we first met. You didn’t have to be, you thought I was just a new whore but you were still considerate and wanted me to feel pleasure. I never blamed you; I want you to know that. Here at Ostagar you treated me with courtesy and respect. I’d like to think we were becoming friends. I realize now you found me attractive but you didn’t push. I don’t know if it was because you loved Anora or realized I had no clue. If I had, would I have been tempted? We’ll never know, but I’m glad we didn’t. I’m very happy with Alistair.”_ She struggled to stay calm, _“I’m glad you were happy about Marcail. That document will mean a lot to him when he’s older. You should be proud of Alistair; he’s a good man and cares about our son. Did I ever tell you how much I enjoyed our conversations and not just because you let me ramble about Marcail? I could be silly with you; I hadn’t been silly with anyone since before my parents died. Maker and Creators, I look at you up there and can easily see Alistair or Marcail. Please watch over them, if you can. I didn’t realize until now how much I cared for you, your Maker better be as good to you as Loghain was not.”_

“He was a king and deserves a pyre,” Elissa finally broke the silence. With Shale’s help, they got Cailan down. Starr took a few minutes to clean his face of darkspawn filth, she felt it was the least she could do for him before they sent him off. She and Alistair stood watch over the funeral pyre until the flames died down. They held hands in an effort to comfort and take comfort in each other.

When they left Ostagar, they didn’t look back. By unspoken agreement, Starr and Alistair did not read the rest of Cailan’s papers that night. That night in their tent, Alistair held her in his arms while she cried for the father of her son and her son who would never know the man who sired him. She shed tears over the loss of the man she knew. She cried because the two brothers would never know each other. She cried because she’d found happiness and that level of happiness had eluded Cailan. She cried because the man she loved was grieving for the brother and father he never knew. After a time his tears mingled with hers and they held each other close until sleep finally took pity on them both.


	46. Letters from a Dead King

They’d been back on the road to Orzammar for a few days. Alistair found himself walking with Shale. He was still thinking about Cailan at Ostagar. Shale interrupted his musings, “It bears a remarkable resemblance to the dead man on a stick. Did it know it?”

Alistair processed the its before answering, “He was my brother, half-brother actually. We didn’t grow up together so I didn’t know him well; I wish now that I did. Starr knew him better than I did. You can talk to her if you want more information about him.”

“It is referring to the silver one it shares a tent with? It does know that its, ugh, current activities can lead to baby its?”

Alistair couldn’t help laughing at the golem’s phrasing and evident disgust. It was the first real laugh he’d had since leaving Ostagar again. “That would actually be rather nice, but for reasons I can’t explain it’s unlikely to happen.” They were silent again except for the occasional chuckle escaping the templar.

It was only midafternoon when Elissa called a halt. “Starr’s reported that there’s a rock fall blocking our way. There’s no good way to go around, so we’ll have to dig through. We might as well stop here for the night. Shale, I would like you to go see what you can do to clear the path. Take Sten and Wynne with you. I’ll be along soon. Alistair, you and Starr set up camp. We can at least tend to our armor while there’s daylight.” Shale grumbled because that’s what Shale did, but did as requested.

Starr and Alistair quickly got everything set up with plenty of afternoon sunlight left. They decided that now was as good a time as any to go through the rest of Cailan’s papers. Finding a quiet spot apart from the others with a bush affording some privacy, Starr took them out of her pack. They were letters. One was addressed to her, one to Alistair and one to Marcail. She handed Alistair his letter and began reading her own.

_“My dear Starr, if you are reading this then I did not survive the battle tomorrow. I bet I surprised you. Did you really think I wouldn’t acknowledge my son? I can learn from my father’s mistakes. It shook him when you told him what happened to Alistair years ago, that was never his intention. He made a few discreet inquiries and learned at least some of what you didn’t tell him. I don’t think I have ever seen him so angry. Marcail is lucky to have you with him, but Maker forbid if something were to happen to you . . . Anyway, once this ordeal at Ostagar is over I plan on becoming a part of my son’s life. If Anora and I have a child, that child will be the legitimate heir and take precedence over Marcail. That is just the way of things. But Marcail will not be abandoned. I don’t know why I’m writing this, you won’t see it if I survive. I do want you to know that Marcail will not be left to the whims of fate or some stranger. I want him to be educated and to have a place in my family. I want to get to know him in person and not just through your eyes, lovely as they are._

_If I had known you were pregnant, I would have married you years ago even if it meant trouble with Loghain. At the time, I cared for Anora, but I didn’t truly come to love her until we were married. She was a great comfort after my father died. I looked for you then and now I know why I didn’t find you. I am so glad we met again. You gave me the greatest gift when you told me I had a son. Your friendship was another gift, you could have hated me and it humbles me that you don’t. Loghain would probably laugh at the idea of anything humbling me. He has never claimed humility was one of my many failings._

_I swore the Revered Mother to secrecy unless I fall in battle and I did not tell Loghain about Marcail or my declaration. We argue enough as it is and we don’t need another reason. I am sure he would see it as a slight against his daughter. I admit I have not been the most faithful of husbands these last few years. Loghain and Anora are both aware of this, though I have tried to be discreet. Although they are unaware of the true reasons. Sometimes, Anora is just too much Loghain’s daughter, and I have never been interested in bedding_ him. _After Ostagar, I think it is time he retired to Gwaren, maybe Anora and I can find a happier balance in our marriage without his constant presence. To be fair, he doesn’t actually do anything to interfere, but he doesn’t bother trying to be subtle. His approval and disapproval are pretty obvious to the meanest intelligence. I can hardly tell Anora that she’s too much like the father and hero she idolizes. Imagination isn’t her strong suit and she just wouldn’t understand that I don’t consider that a plus in our marriage._

_That reason is secondary, and I believe we can get past that in time. We have no children. Anora has never once even quickened with child and with each year, certain of the Bannorn are becoming edgy. Some have subtly, and not so subtly, suggested that perhaps I should put Anora aside and marry another who would give me an heir. Their own daughters of course. Questions of whether she is barren or I incapable join us in our bed. She seeks respite in becoming a better and better administrator and I sometimes seek comfort in the arms of other women. And maybe it’s not just comfort but also a way of testing my virility. I don’t know why I am telling you this. Maybe it’s because you are a friend and a woman, kings don’t have that many friends, appearances to the contrary. If I survive I will burn this letter, I shall not risk it falling into another’s hands if I live. If I live, we’ll be able to talk directly, though I may not tell you all. If I die, it will be embarrassing for some but not much else._

_Knowing I have a child will be hard on Anora; she is a very proud woman. At least a child born well before we married will be easier for her to bear. And, maybe we can relax together again. With a possible heir already in evidence, maybe there will be less pressure to set another in her place. Anyway, I don’t want another wife. I should warn you, she will probably hate you, see you as a threat. Anora is used to being the most beautiful woman in the room and I have seen her use that knowledge in some of her dealings with others. She is never crude, and almost always affective. She wouldn’t understand you at all, she wouldn’t understand that you have no ulterior motives towards the crown or her position, that you don’t even realize how achingly beautiful you are and would never use that knowledge even if you did._

_It would be easy to fall in love with you, Starrelena Feyorlin. Your kindness, strength and integrity are very attractive. Your wit and beauty are icing on an abundant cake. Maybe, maybe if I pursued the issue we would become more than friends but it wouldn’t be enough for either of us. I am not your destiny. Do you realize how your face lights up whenever you speak of your friend, Alistair? And I know you haven’t spoken to him yet. Something tells me that your destiny is intertwined with his. Ultimately, we will both be much happier to remain friends. I don’t know if he is aware, but I have watched Alistair from a distance. I know Duncan thinks highly of him, and Alistair certainly seems loyal to his commander. Alistair seems very insecure, yet, yet I believe there could be a great man waiting to appear. As soon as the battle is over, I will be making arrangements to have Alistair come back with me. Duncan approached me about having a Grey Warden accompany me back to Denerim. Ostensibly, to help protect me from harm by steering us away from darkspawn, but if I know Duncan he probably has a dozen other reasons. I’ll use that as an opportunity to get to know my brother. He is very lucky to have you as his friend, whether he knows this or not._

_Do you wonder why I named you and Alistair co-regents? You are Marcail’s mother and will protect him. I trust you implicitly to look after him and not use him to further your own agenda, as others would be tempted to do. Alistair may resent me, but I know he will do his duty to the best of his ability. Your past friendship should enable you to work well together. If I don’t survive, this may be the only way I can show him how much I value the relationship between us. He’s a good man. Anora has more experience in this area and would perhaps be a good advisor but in all honesty, you have the abilities to be a better regent than she does. I said she was an excellent administrator. She’s an excellent queen, **while I am king.** But, for too many years, she has learned from Loghain how to put aside any personal feelings or considerations. That may be important in a general when making battle plans, but my father felt that such . . . focus, for want of a better word, was bad for a ruler. Maric felt a ruler had to remember he was dealing with people, not pawns on a chessboard. You understand this. You are strong enough to stand up to Anora if you need to. And Anora can be formidable. _

_Well, I’ve rambled on enough. I want you to know that you have my deepest respect and friendship and I have valued the time we spent together. May you find happiness, my friend. With love and respect, Cailan Theirin.”_

When Starr handed him his letter from the brother he never knew, Alistair hesitated to read it. So many conflicting emotions held his hand. Finally he opened it and began reading, he nearly laughed at the opening.

_“Greetings from beyond the grave, oh brother of mine. I thought you might appreciate that, I understand from some of the people I’ve talked to that a young Grey Warden has a strange sense of humor. From their description, it can only be you. It’s nice to know we have something in common, beyond the obvious, of course. I’m a bit nervous, can you tell? It is my hope that if I survive tomorrow’s battle we can begin to get to know each other, maybe even become friends. Father would like that. Duncan thinks very highly of you; he says in time you will be an excellent leader and I trust his judgment._

_Before I go any farther, I want you to know something. Father never meant for you to be treated as you were. What he expected and wanted was for you to be placed with a good family somewhere in the arling, so Eamon could keep a general eye on you. He wanted you to grow up with a family who would care for you and give you a normal life, be it as farmer, merchant or soldier. I have never seen him so angry as when he found out about the stables and the Chantry. It scared me to see him like that, if you must know. He tried to find you, but he had to be very discreet for your sake and his, I’m not sure if he even told Loghain. He started to make a point of visiting the local Chantries and Templar posts whenever he made the rounds of the Bannorn. He said he wanted to know about everything in his kingdom, but what he really wanted was to find you. If he had, he would have taken you out of there. I don’t know what might have happened after that, instead he died at sea._

_I know we met once when we were both children. At the time I did not realize you were my brother, you probably thought I was a complete prat. You would probably be right. Did you know I sometimes wished I had a brother or sister? Being the only child of a hero and king gets you an awful lot of attention and people expect so much of you. A sibling would have shared in that. Which is very selfish of me, I know. I’ll stop whining now._

_You have a very good friend in the lovely Starrelena Feyorlin. You probably hate me because of Marcail. I understand. Several years ago I was not very discerning and did not realize in time that the young woman I was with was both not yet a woman and not there for the reason I thought. I can tell you no more than that, it is her story to tell or withhold as she decides. I fully regret my part in any harm done to her (though I would be lying if I said I was sorry I had a son). I hope the two of you are able to reconnect. Friendships such as you had are rare and worth preserving. Truthfully, I envy you greatly in that respect._

_Why did I make you co-regent? If I were you, I would be asking this question. It is one way, and if I’m dead the only way, I can show you how much I want to forge a relationship with you. But it would be irresponsible of me to name you co-regent for that reason only. No matter what you’ve heard, I save my irresponsibility for every other Saturday in the third, fifth, and eighth months of the year. I told you Duncan thought well of you. I have observed you as well, though you may not know that. You’re a good man, Alistair. I think you and Starrelena will work well together on behalf of my son. It will be easier to have two of you learning the art of governance than just one of you; and when you are off doing Grey Warden stuff she will be there. A bit like Anora administers while I am here. I ask only that you keep your activities local to Denerim for a year, in order for you both to be stronger in your roles._

_Something you should know, I love Anora but she will resent all three of you because you represent the one failure in our marriage so far – the lack of an heir. I know she thinks she is a good queen, and she is while I am alive. She is an excellent administrator but doesn’t realize she is very heavily influenced by her father, the Hero of River Dane. His traits might be excellent in a military leader but can be detrimental in a ruler. Unless he is a despot. Together I believe you and Starrelena will rule Ferelden better while Marcail grows up than Anora with only her father to guide her. There has been some pressure to dissolve our marriage so I could marry another. Some have even suggested an alliance with Orlais! I am in favor of forging ties with Orlais, the Free Marches and other nations so that we are stronger and less of a target for another occupation attempt. The Empress and I have become quite cordial, it is true, but our friendship is more in the nature of brother and sister. We are both well aware that it will likely be generations before a more formal and intimate alliance would be worth considering, if ever. We Fereldens are a proud and independent people. Nothing must jeopardize that._

_I hope we have the opportunity to discuss these issues. Be happy, brother. Find Starrelena and rekindle your friendship. Nothing will make me happier than to know that my brother and a woman who has become my closest friend are together in whatever capacity works for you both. I think you were destined to find each other, now it’s up to you. I have faith in you, Alistair. I am proud to call you brother and hope that one day you can say the same of me._

_Cailan Theirin, King of Ferelden and brother of Alistair Theirin, Grey Warden”_

For a moment, he sat there rereading sections of his letter, and then he looked over at Starr and saw she was done reading. Cailan was right; he was a lucky, lucky man. Alistair scooted so he was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and his legs bracketed hers. He kissed her hair and the skin where her neck met her shoulder. His fingers quickly unfastened the front of her shirt, baring her breasts to the sun and his callused fingers. Starr’s breathing quickened and she felt her nipples standing for his inspection. She leaned back against him and gave him greater access. Possible discovery added to the thrill. When he nibbled her ear she whimpered, she gripped his strong thighs when he spoke, “I think he was a little bit in love with you.” He increased his exploration of her breasts. Maker, she was so responsive to his touch. He was truly blessed.

“Does that,” she almost squealed the last word when he tweaked her nipple just so, “does that bother you?” she finished, breathing shakily. She wiggled against him, but he wouldn’t let her turn around. She could, however, reach her arms up behind her and move her head back for a kiss. A deep, satisfying kiss.

He thought about her question even as his hands wandered further down, toying with the laces of her britches. “No,” he said hoarsely, “it might have once, to be honest, but not anymore. I just feel incredibly lucky.” He kissed her and slipped one of his hands under her smalls while the other one continued playing with her breasts. “Should we read the other letter, the one to Marcail?”

“Yes,” she cried, “but you need to stop or I can’t concentrate.” She bit her lip in frustration when he did so. He wrapped his arms around her waist and wouldn’t let her refasten any of her clothes. “I’m sure Cailan expects us to read it, so we can judge when to give it to him.” The breeze was caressing her where his fingers had been. She wriggled some more and could feel him hardening against her back. Mercifully, it was a short letter; Alistair rested his head on her shoulder so they could read it together.

_“Dear Marcail,_

_Your mother told me I am your father. In one minute, she gave me the greatest joy I’ve ever known and the greatest sorrow. I am so happy to know I have a son, but you don’t know me and I have missed so many years of your life. That is my sorrow. If I had known, I would have made sure we knew each other._

_You should know that your mother is a wonderful woman. She’s strong, brave, funny, kind and smart. You are a lucky young man to have had her looking out for you these past few years. She loves you very much and I feel I have come to know you somewhat through the stories she’s told me. I look forward to meeting you in person. Once we are finished dealing with these pesky darkspawn, I’ll come visit you in Redcliffe. I’d like it if you and your mother visited me in the Palace in Denerim. There’s so much I’d like to show you._

_Seneschal Gerod could tell you many stories of my father, your grandfather, and of me when I was younger. He was working in the palace when I was growing up. On second thought, maybe you don’t need to hear stories of me when I was growing up, I can tell you about that (the less embarrassing bits). He’s bound to be busy. Being in charge of the palace is a big job, after all. He had great respect for my father and would be glad to talk about him to someone new._

_I don’t know if I can make up for the last few years, but going forward I will make sure you and your mother are taken care of to the best of my ability. I want you both to be healthy and happy and not lack for anything. I hope you have the opportunity to meet my brother, Alistair. He is one of your mother’s oldest friends and a good man. He’s also a Grey Warden._

_With love and anticipation,_

_Cailan Therein, King of Ferelden and humble father of Marcail Alistair Feyorlin”_

Starr wiped a tear from her face and carefully folded all the letters and put them back in her pack. Alistair had loosened his grip so she turned around so she could lay her head on his shoulders and wrap her arms and legs around him. He stroked her hair and back. They were both touched by the simple letter to the child Cailan would never know. Alistair cleared his throat, “We need to preserve this for Marcail. One day we’ll have to tell him about Cailan and he’ll need to know how Cailan felt.”

Starr sat up and looked at him, this man who was lover and friend. “Yes,” she said, agreeing with him. She put her hands on either side of that gorgeous face, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am that you came back into my life? I love you, Stair.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that,” he responded huskily as his lips met hers in a tender kiss. “My heart and everything I have is yours.” He helped her refasten her clothing and arm in arm they made their way back to camp.


	47. Sten

Humans confused Sten. One of the most confusing to him was Starr. Sometimes she was a woman and sometimes a warrior. The Warden, whom he was coming to respect, and the bard were fighters in the shape of women, but that wasn’t as strange to him as the one who was both at different times. He had seen one of her journals. She had great skill and he appreciated the details and complexity of her drawings. He also appreciated her skill with food. As a soldier of the Beresaad he was used to eating what was available and doing without but he could admit to himself it was nice to travel with somebody who cooked well enough to transform the usual camp food into something better. He would miss her cooking. He would even miss her so-called travel cookies. He couldn’t very well travel with the Wardens forever. If they succeeded in ending the Blight the group he traveled with now would disband.

He didn’t understand why she was with the other Warden. The Tamassrans would never have considered pairing such a strong and talented woman with someone as weak-willed and unworthy as the other Warden appeared to be. Perhaps he had some traits that were hidden to Sten. They must be hidden very deep, indeed. She was not puny like many of the other human women and was actually attractive, for a human. That thought disturbed him very much; humans were weak and he wondered if his finding one of them attractive was a sign of weakness in himself. He consoled himself with the thought that she was very different from all other humans he had seen.

Even as a fighter, she baffled Sten. She was mostly a rogue fighter but she had some impressive skills as a warrior. Like him, she favored a two-handed weapon. And she did not always use it in the traditional manner of such weapons. He felt it wrong somehow, that she should be so effective but would not lie to himself by not admitting that she was.

He was alone with her that evening as she was preparing the evening meal. Alistair, Elissa and Zevran were seeing if they could catch any of the fish in a nearby stream. “Sten, I have something I would like you to try,” Starr handed him a cup of hot liquid. His nostrils flared as he caught the aromas of tea and cinnamon. The scents of home. “I have some honey if you want to sweeten it, please let me know if you like it.”

He looked into the mug she gave him, the tea looked strong, just as he preferred. A stick of cinnamon lay against the side of the mug and allowed the tea to absorb some of its essence. He breathed deeply of the aromas before he took the first sip. He closed his eyes, visions of Par Vollen dancing before his eyes. He opened them and looked into her eyes, a soft gray with hints of blue. He bowed his head to her, “You have my thanks. This is very much like the tea of home, perhaps later I will add honey but I will not dilute this first cup.” She smiled at him and went quietly about her business, letting him savor his tea. Unobtrusively she put the pot and the honey within easy reach, a simple courtesy he greatly appreciated.

When she was done, she got her own cup, put a tiny drop of honey in the bottom and poured tea over it, the honey blending with the hot liquid. She took a cautious sip and smiled. “Oh, this is good. I’ve never had tea like this before,” she sat with him, both drinking their tea and enjoying the moment. Sten found himself smiling at her enjoyment and felt comfortable for the first time in this land.

“You confuse me,” he surprised himself by admitting when they finished their tea. Starr carefully put his cinnamon stick on a specially prepared leaf to dry. She’d give it to him later to use as he liked. She looked at him questioningly, inviting him to elaborate. “The tea, the different foods you prepare representing different preferences of those with whom we travel, these are courtesies which I would not expect while traveling. They are not simple courtesies even when not traveling. I know obtaining this tea and the cinnamon is not easy here in Ferelden. Why do you do it?”

She leaned back on her hands and looked at him thoughtfully, “I’m not sure, really.” She considered his question before continuing. “It’s no secret that I like to cook. I don’t think you can fully experience the joy of cooking unless there is somebody else to appreciate it. I like experimenting with textures and flavors, but it’s not always easy to judge the final result when you’re already steeped in the flavors and spices used in preparation. When you or Elissa or Zevran enjoy something I do, I know my efforts were successful. It’s not like a drawing I can stop and return to later with a fresh eye.” Sten nodded his head in acknowledgement. Starr seemed to be looking at him and in the distance at the same time when she continued, “Traveling with people from such different places has been very interesting, I’ve learned something just from the way they describe the foods. My mother used to emphasize the importance of treating others as you wished to be treated. She had this philosophy that the good you sent out to the world would someday be returned to you with interest.” She cocked her head and smiled slightly, “I don’t know if I believe that, but as a guide or code of conduct it’s not bad, is it?”

“No, it is simplistic but far better than many,” Sten answered.

“From a practical perspective of course, morale is important. If my cooking helps keep our health and spirits up then we rest better, we fight better and work together better. Sometimes a little thing can have significant consequences for good or ill,” a shadow flitted behind her eyes as she thought of her and Vionna’s fateful walk that day long ago. She banished it and smiled at the Qunari in front of her, “And now I know I like this tea. If I hadn’t met you, I might never have tried it.”

“Alistair seems an unlikely person to enjoy your culinary skills,” Sten pointed out.

Starr snickered softly, “True, as long as he doesn’t have to cook he’s happy. Sometimes I’ve thought of gathering a bunch of leaves and twigs, chopping them up and maybe sautéing them in some butter before melting cheese on top just to see if he would eat it.”

Alistair, Zevran and Elissa came into camp in time to hear Sten’s bark of laughter. They looked for him and were surprised to see him laughing with Starr. Alistair just shook his head when Zevran remarked, “My comely cousin can charm even the stalwart and stoic Qunari, it seems.”

A few days later Sten shared the morning watch with Alistair. When Starr emerged from their tent, she made coffee as she usually did, then made a pot of tea and motioned to Sten so he would know. He looked at the other man and spoke, “You are not worthy of her.”

Alistair was surprised that Sten spoke to him at all much less about Starr, but he answered quietly, “I know. I am a very fortunate man.”

“It is good you realize this. Perhaps there is hope for you,” Sten remarked as he went to pour himself a cup of tea. Later, observing them together and the way they acted, often in a lighthearted, even silly, manner he shook his head. Humans confused him.


	48. One Fine Day in Orzammar

Zevran enjoyed the view in front of him. Starr and Leliana were walking and talking together, pointing out different marvels of dwarven engineering or some of the views from the Diamond Quarter as they made their way to the Shaperate. Fen prowled nearby. Starr, in deference to the heat from the lava falls, had changed back to her Dalish armor. Much as he appreciated her tailored dwarven armor, he had a special fondness for the swish of leather when she wore the Dalish set. Judging by the smile on his face and the gleam in his eye Alistair also approved the change. “Ah, few things are more enjoyable than watching two beautiful women, do you not agree? Although I think your good mood has some other cause,” Zevran knew the templar was up to something when Alistair started to whistle jauntily. Alistair never whistled.

Alistair chuckled, “After what we went through just to get in, I’m not going to ignore simple pleasures.”

“To what could you be referring, my friend? The bounty hunters waiting for us before we even reached the merchant circle? Or perhaps Loghain’s lackey? The fact there is no king and the political fighting is positively deadly, so we must be very cautious in our dealings with the dwarves? Dwarven politics are notoriously tricky under normal circumstances. Or perhaps that while in Tapster’s a drunk dwarf by the name of Jorund began praising the glorious curves of my comely cousin as being worthy of the best dwarva? And did so in a very loud voice to the amusement and interest of at least half the patrons with the result she is now ‘LD,’ the Long-legged Dwarf? I have noticed many eyeing the beauty in front of us,” Zevran was teasing but not exaggerating, many of the men they passed did indeed look at the beautiful Starr with surprise, speculation and masculine approval.

Alistair scowled briefly at the reminder, “I come in only a few minutes after the rest of you and she already has a group of admirers. Teagan may have been joking when he spoke of the disadvantages of being in love with a beautiful woman, but he wasn’t wrong.” Thinking of the events that happened shortly afterwards in their room, he smiled. _“Starr certainly had an unusual reaction to dwarven ale,”_ he mused.

_The moment Alistair closed the door she slammed him against the wall and attacked his mouth with hers. She bit the lobe of his ear and urgently whispered, “Now!” She proceeded to strip him out of his armor and drop it to the floor._

_As soon as they were naked, he turned so she was the one pushed up against the wall. Dark desire was consuming him, “You are **mine** ,” he said fiercely before he hoisted her up so he could ravage her breasts. He bit, licked and sucked, leaving bruises and bite marks behind. He tongued and teethed her nipples roughly even as she begged him for more and to hurry. She wrapped her legs around him and thrust her hips at him, but he wasn’t finished with her breasts. Hard, callused hands roamed her body roughly stroking, squeezing and pinching. He feasted on her breasts as she whimpered in an agony of desire. She quickly came to the edge of her release and only then did he dig his fingers into her rear and dive into her, hard, fast and deep. He held still and savored the moment of control and the feeling of her surrounding him before plunging forward and letting himself go. Even harder and faster, her nails scratching his back as she tightened around him. She cried out his name before she sagged against him, laying her head on his shoulder. With one hand he reached up and grabbed her hair to pull her head back, “Say it,” he growled at her. _

_Starr’s eyes widened at the need and something else still burning in his eyes, and was surprised to find herself responding again. He was still hard inside her and she involuntarily tightened. He’d never been this forceful before, never this demanding, this, this primal. She’d been surprised more than once by his inventiveness, but this was something different. She searched his face and realized what he was asking, and she gave it to him without reservation, “I am yours, everything I have is yours.” The darkness left his face and she saw his smile before his mouth swooped onto hers, taking possession. Alistair buried his face in her hair, nipping the curve of her neck and shoulder and inhaling deeply. His hands held her hips steady as he pushed farther into her and held her there as she squirmed. Finally, when she didn’t think she could stand another minute he began moving and allowing her to move with him. This time they finished together, the wall supporting them the only reason they weren’t boneless masses on the stone floor._

_After a couple of minutes during which he got some of his strength back, he picked up Starr, carried her to the bed, and laid her down. ‘Maker bless Warden stamina,’ he thought wryly. He sat down next to her and brushed the hair back from her face. As his hand caressed her face, his eyes traced a path down her body. When he saw the bruises on her shoulders and breasts, some deep, bruises **he** had put there he blanched. He moved his hand away from her face and couldn’t look away from the marks on her skin, the marks of possession, “I hurt you,” he whispered and moved away from the bed._

_Starr looked at him in surprise, “What do you mean? Stair,” she said, her eyes wandered the path his had traveled, and she saw the bruises and bite marks on her breasts. “Wow,” was all she could think to say at first. Somehow, seeing them enabled her to finally feel them and the bruises on her rear where he had grabbed her. She looked over at him, “You didn’t hurt me. Yes, I have bruises and I may be a little sore, but I’m not some fragile flower. Yes, you were a bit rough. So what? I didn’t ask you to stop and I didn’t want you to stop.” She might have gone on but he pulled her face to his and kissed her senseless._

_“I love you,” Alistair said, “if we had time I’d kiss them all to make them better. But,” he said regretfully, "we need to go back downstairs to meet the others. Tonight, however,” and he leered at her, making her laugh._

_“You better,” she said. She stopped him with a kiss, “And Stair, I love you, too.” He grinned at her and began stroking a wet cloth over her bruised skin. She realized he’d dipped the wet cloth in a healing potion and was grateful for the soothing sensation and his thoughtfulness. He quickly cleaned himself and put his armor back on. Giving her a quick kiss and a promise to meet her downstairs, he opened the door and slipped out. Before he could shut the door, Fen rushed in._

_“My reaction certainly surprised **me** ,” _he thought, remembering the ferocity of his response and his demands. _“I didn’t realize until now how much it bothered me that she didn’t seem fully committed to being with me. No more.”_ He began to whistle again and Zevran rolled his eyes.

“Alistair, what are you planning? Or are you just reliving your recent activity with the seductive Starr? That armor doesn’t hide the fact that she has more bruises in interesting locations than when you two entered your room.” Zevran was rewarded by Alistair’s blush, but was frustrated in his attempt to find out the young man’s plans. He would wait; Zevran hadn’t survived all those years as a Crow without learning patience.

Zevran might have been surprised to know that Leliana was slyly interrogating Starr about said earlier activities. “So,” Leliana began, “I see you decided to wear your lighter armor. I think that is a wise decision, and it looks so darling on you. Very flirtatious. I bet Alistair has to use all his templar training to look for darkspawn instead of at you, he is quite smitten, after all.” Starr said nothing as she tried to ignore the redhead’s teasing, but couldn’t stop a slight flush from staining her cheeks. Leliana continued, “You must be careful, however, that when he bruises you during lovemaking it is in areas that don’t show, unless you don’t mind others knowing of your activities. It’s practically boasting. You both seem very happy and I am glad, you are both good people.” Blue eyes danced with delight at the now flaming red cheeks on Starr’s face. “So tell me, how is he? He is young, handsome, athletic, and quite good at following orders, yes?”

Starr couldn’t help herself, she burst out laughing. Whispering, to make sure the men didn’t hear, she answered, “He is also inventive, tender, and sometimes quite f-fierce.”

They were both giggling now, “So our young templar has grown up and, ahem, plays well with others. I am quite jealous.” Leliana winked at Starr and they both turned to look back at the handsome blond, laughing.

“Zevran, what do you think they are they talking about and why are they laughing?” Alistair was both curious and concerned.

Zevran snickered, “Ah, my young friend, you still have much to learn about women. Women will talk about many different things. Based on the bruises I venture to guess that they were talking about you, and in particular about your, shall we say, romantic endeavors with your lady. Your performance, as it were.”

Eyes goggling, Alistair exploded, “My WHAT! And why would they be giggling, that can’t be good, can it? Oh Maker, what is it with women?”

“If it makes you feel better you can tell me all about it, in great detail and just to even things up, of course,” Zevran suggested slyly. Alistair just shook his head and turned redder than ever. Zevran hoped Alistair never lost the ability to blush or he’d lose one of his best sources of entertainment.

They reached the Shaperate without further incident and went inside. A figure rushed past them on the way out and they heard a commotion inside. Going forward they encountered a very agitated dwarf. “Warden, he stole one of our precious volumes, I can’t believe it. What good would it do him?” They calmed the irate man down and promised to look into it. They found the Shaper of Memories at the back of the Shaperate. By the time they finished speaking with him they had a reasonable understanding of the beliefs, social/political structure, and history of Orzammar. Hopefully, this would aid them while they were in the dwarven city.

They looked at some of the books available on their way out and were about halfway when Alistair stopped. “I meant to ask him about the Wardens. It won’t take me long, why don’t the three of you talk to the other man, the scribe and see if you can get a better description of the thief and the missing volume before we have to head into Dust Town.” Without giving them a chance to argue he turned around and walked quickly back to the Shaper. Fen followed him while the rest shrugged their shoulders and did as he suggested. Zevran and Leliana looked at each other skeptically, but neither had an answer.

Alistair rejoined them with a bounce in his step. As soon as they were out the door, he took Starr’s arm, “I need to show you something,” and steered her around the corner. The other two shamelessly eavesdropped out of sight. Once Alistair was alone with Starr, he became momentarily tongue-tied. When she started to be concerned, he kissed her, and then he was able to speak. Holding her hands he looked into her beautiful soft grey eyes and began, “Starr, I love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. For me there is no other and there will be no other. Would you do me the honor of marrying me, of being my wife?” He was hopeful as her eyes turned blue, even though stray tears slid down her face.

“What about Eamon?” Starr couldn’t help asking, knowing the Arl would not be pleased.

“He’s already married,” Alistair snorted. “I don’t care what Eamon thinks. I’ll take his advice when I think it is the right thing to do, but my bed is definitely _not_ in his jurisdiction. I know what I want, Starr. I want to wake up every day and look into your eyes; I want to face all the joys and sorrows and challenges of life with you at my side as my wife, not just as my friend. I love you, heart, body and soul. Will you marry me?” Listening, Leliana grabbed Zevran’s hand and sniffed.

There was only one answer, and Starr gave it, “Stair, I love you, heart, body and soul. Of course I’ll marry you,” and she threw her arms around his neck as he embraced her. They just stood like that for several minutes, completely absorbed in the moment and each other.


	49. Leliana Goes Shopping

There was only one answer, and Starr gave it, “Stair, I love you, heart, body and soul. Of course I’ll marry you,” and she threw her arms around his neck as he embraced her. They just stood like that for several minutes, completely absorbed in the moment and each other. When they broke apart, Starr was smiling. “Marcail will be happy. Before we left Redcliffe he kept saying how much nicer it would be if you could stay with us and not have to go up to the Castle.”

Alistair laughed, “He told me it was okay with him if we wanted to make ‘kissy faces’ with each other.” He toyed with her hair a moment, “Starr, I did tell you that I probably will not be able to have children? I don’t know of any Wardens who had children _after_ they became a Grey Warden. If that matters . . .” his voice trailed off as he waited for her answer.

Starr kissed him and tried to caress the doubt away from his expression, “If we don’t have children, we don’t have children. I love you, Stair, children would just be icing on the cake.”

Alistair hugged her to him in relief, then cupped her face in his hands, “Starr, you’ve made me incredibly happy. I don’t want to wait until Redcliffe, or the war or the Blight is over. I want to get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow afternoon, in fact.”

“Tomorrow!” Starr’s voice was joined by Leliana’s, who couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“There’s a Brother Burkel, a dwarf, I met in the Commons. He wants to open a Chantry here in Orzammar and he told me that there was no reason he couldn’t marry us, under the circumstances. Apparently, when there are no Revered Mothers in the area Sisters or Brothers who have taken their vows can perform standard ceremonies, like weddings and funerals as needed. Knowing I’m a Grey Warden and that there is both a Civil War and a Blight on the surface, and we face a lot of danger, he’s more than willing to perform a ceremony now. And there’s nothing to prevent us from having another ceremony later, if we wish it.” Alistair put his hands on either side of Starr’s face, “My love, I want to get married now. While we have the opportunity and our friends are here. Who knows how long we might have to wait? I don’t want to risk waiting years for you to be my wife.”

Starr’s smile was dazzling. “I always wanted to be married by the lava falls of Orzammar, I-" she got no further and yelped when Leliana pulled on her arm.

“We have to go; we have much to do before tomorrow. We are going shopping!” Leliana was thrilled. Who knew traveling with the Wardens would be so interesting? She took Starr’s hand and dragged her away chattering excitedly.

The men followed, laughing as the delicate redhead practically danced as she pulled the taller woman in her wake. They watched as Leliana stopped a noble woman and the three women chatted for several minutes before Leliana and her charge were off again. Fen was no help; he kept winding back and forth between the men and the women in approval. Zevran cleared his throat, “So this is what you were planning, my friend. Congratulations.” There was a tone in his voice that Alistair couldn’t decipher. Before he could ask about it, they met Elissa and the others.

Elissa hugged him, “I’m so happy for you Alistair.” She laughed, “Only you would think to get married in Orzammar. Leliana is determined that we go shopping for Starr, so you men will have to pursue this thief. I’m not worried, but be careful anyway. Leliana will cut off your hair if you aren’t presentable for your own wedding.” Alistair’s hand automatically reached up to check causing both Elissa and Zevran to laugh at him. Alistair grumbled good-naturedly and they regrouped according to Leliana’s directions.

“A woman in the Diamond Quarter told me about a merchant/seamstress who might be able to help us. Let me see, it should be down here. Yes, here it is. I can’t wait to see what she has. I have some ideas for your hair, are you going to wear your rose?” Leliana was so excited she was rambling from one topic to another. “I’m very happy for you and Alistair, you are very good for each other, I think.” Still chattering she opened the door so they could go inside.

“Humans? Here in my shop? With, is that a golem?” a wizened dwarven woman greeted them with surprise. “Are you lost?” By her tone, she might have been asking if they were insane.

“If you are Mistress Grunilde the seamstress then we are where we want to be. I am Leliana; this is Elissa our leader and a Grey Warden. We are all traveling with her at the moment. I was told you might be able to help us. Our lovely friend, Starr,” and she brought Starr forward, “is getting married tomorrow and we were hoping we could find something nice for her to wear. A bride should have something special to wear for her wedding should she not?”

“ ** _Tomorrow_**!” Grunilde screeched in disbelief, “Do you think I’m some sort of mage and can snap my fingers to have something rise out of the stone?” She grumbled and walked around Starr who was blushing and shifting her feet nervously. She jumped when Grunilde started yelling, “Hilse, Hilse come here you worthless twit!” A much younger and less confident version of Grunilde came running and skidded to a stop when she saw the humans. “Hilse, this one is getting married tomorrow afternoon and they came here to find something for her to wear. Do we have anything for a tall human with lots of curves?”

Hilse was already shaking her head, then she looked more closely at Starr, “You’re the one they call the Long-legged Dwarf! Everybody on the Commons is talking about you; it’s more fun and safer than talking about politics. Are you -” she squawked when her mother grabbed her arm.

“You’ve been chasing after that painter again, haven’t you? Never mind, what’s this nonsense about a long-legged dwarf? Have you been drinking?” Grunilde demanded answers. By this time, Starr was bright red and the women were all laughing. Elissa finally explained. Grunilde snorted, “That Jorund never did have a lick of sense.” She looked at Starr again, “But I can see what he meant. However, I’m not sure I know what I can do for you. We don’t have a lot of time to make a wedding dress.”

Starr nodded and started to speak but Leliana forestalled her, “Surely you have some nice fabrics. Starr is quite lovely and doesn’t need a lot of adornment; surely, a simple dress in lovely material is possible. I heard so much about your skill and how quickly you work.”

“Maybe, but it’ll cost you.” Leliana and Grunilde began bargaining. Hilse brought out several fabrics of good quality from which Starr would be able to choose. After a lot of back and forth they finally agreed on a price for a dress. “Now that that’s settled two more things: foundation and shoes, do you have either, LD?” Grunilde figured she knew the answer and so wasn’t surprised when Starr just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. Another brief round of bargaining and Grunilde was ready for Starr to choose her fabric. “Hilse, go next door and bring Lanker, tell him we have a job for him.” When Hilse was gone Grunilde explained, “He’s a cobbler. He does good work and is the only one I trust when I need shoes to go with one of my dresses.”

Starr didn’t need much time to choose material. She liked them all, but the one that really caught her eye was a rich slate-blue shot with sparkling silver threads. Leliana found a light silver lace also shot with sparkling silver to go with it. When Hilse came back with Lanker, she had the materials he would need for the shoes ready to go. Lanker was a quiet sort, he just looked at Starr with interest as Grunilde explained what was needed. He motioned for Starr to follow him when he turned around. Elissa went with them, once Starr was finished with Lanker they would all meet in Starr’s room at Tapsters. Grunilde would work all night if she had to, now that she had agreed she was looking forward to the challenge.

When Alistair arrived much later with Zevran, he found their rooms swarming with females and fabric. Grunilde had informed Starr that her lover would have to sleep somewhere else that evening or she wouldn’t have a dress, so Starr and Leliana packed up his things. Leliana would spend the night in the suite and Alistair could have her room. “Where is Starr? I’d like to see her before I’m kicked out for the night,” Alistair pouted, to the amusement of Morrigan and Elissa.

“No.” Grunilde was quite firm on that point. Starr was in the bedroom area, which was curtained off, along with the bathing area, while Hilse was fitting her for the foundation garment. “Sorry, lover boy, you’re not distracting my client. You can see her tomorrow at the wedding.” She looked him up and down appreciatively, making Alistair acutely uncomfortable, “You got passion boy, but you’ll just have to save it for later.” She cackled when he turned red as the lava falls. “You got anything decent to wear tomorrow? Of course not,” she answered her own question. “As soon as you’re cleaned up Hilse will take you to a friend of mine who makes clothes for surfacers. He probably has something you can use. I’m not going to have you look like some duster next to the dress I’m making. Now shoo!” she pushed the warrior out the door. And if her hand found a way under his armor to pinch his bottom nobody else knew about it.

Grunilde turned to Zevran, who looked back at her with amusement dancing in his eyes. “So, cutie, you must be Zevran. She wants to talk to you. Keep it short; we have a lot to do.” Then she yelled, “LD, your elf is here. You have two minutes,” then she got busy with her work.

Starr just had time to wrap a sheet around herself before Zevran showed around the curtain. Hilse nodded at him shyly and then joined her mother. “Ah, bellissima, you are looking delightfully ruffled.” He kissed her hand, and got a delightful view of spectacular breasts when her sheet slipped. He acted the gentleman, and made no mention of it when she tugged it tighter about herself and sat down. He just sat down next to her and waited.

Starr took his hand and bit her lower lip. She took a deep breath and looked at Zevran, “Zevran, I have a favor to ask. I care for you very much; you’ve become incredibly special to me.” Her eyes took on a faraway look, and she missed the tenderness that briefly showed in his amber ones. “I remember my father saying that one of his favorite memories was the day he married my mother. He watched her walking towards him accompanied by her father, who stood for her that day. I remember him telling me he looked forward to standing for me on my wedding day to a good man who loved me.” Her eyes traveled back to the present and there was a slight sheen of tears in them when she looked at her friend and cousin. “He’s gone now, but I think he would be pleased if you stood in his place. Will you Zev; will you stand for me in his place?”

A complex array of emotions passed through him before he answered her through the lump in his throat, “My lovely cousin, you honor me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek, “Of course I will stand for you. You are special to me as well.” They sat there for a minute before he stood up, “Regretfully I must leave. I do not want to make your dressmaker angry with me. I will go see how Alistair is faring, until tomorrow bellissima,” and he kissed her fingers.

She rose as well, bending, she kissed his cheek, “Thank you, Zevran, this means a great deal to me.” Zevran smiled, kissed her fingers again and left her to the more or less tender mercies of the old dwarva. As he shut the door, he could hear her yelling for Hilse. He decided it might be amusing to accompany Alistair and Hilse to acquire clothes for the wedding. He could offer the younger man all sorts of advice.

Back in the room, Grunilde spun into action. There was cutting followed by fittings followed by sewing. “Your young man is certainly handsome enough,” she said through a mouthful of pins. “We all know he’s passionate enough, in fact I’m hoping your healer will fix the marks of that passion.” Wynne agreed with a quiet chuckle, eyes filled with mirth at Starr’s embarrassment. “I want your man to be in awe when he sees you in this dress, and I want his brain to switch off when he starts to take you out of it.”

Morrigan snorted, “Nobody would know the difference.” Her comment lacked the venom it might have had months ago. “It’s a good thing you wouldn’t let Alistair spend the night or all Wynne’s work would be undone. I can’t imagine two people more like rabbits.” Starr, who’d been quiet for most of the evening, just blushed.

Grunilde slapped Starr on her rear, and guffawed, “You and your man are busy, are you? Reminds me of my younger days with Hilse’s father, the stupid nug-humper. He returned to the Stone more than ten years ago. Now, be still.” On it went for the rest of the evening. Hilse finished the foundation garment and Grunilde made her try it on with the shoes Lanker had delivered earlier. The shoes had long white lace streamers that matched the lace on the foundation garment. Grunilde showed her how to wrap the laces around her legs and attach them to the bottom of the foundation. “I call this garment the Stone, it’s not only a foundation for you it’s what he turns into when he sees you,” Grunilde cackled at her own joke.

Only Leliana was left, the others long since returned to their rooms. When Leliana saw Starr in the Stone, she jumped up. “Oh, you look like a package waiting to be unwrapped. Alistair will go crazy; he won’t know where to begin.” White lace covered the support fabric and casing which supported and gently lifted Starr’s breasts. The lace continued down, following the curves of her body below her hips where ribbons connected front and back between her legs. After her shoes were on and the streamers wrapped around her legs above the knee they hooked into the ends of streamers hanging from the bottom of the Stone. “How does it feel? The skin peeking through the lace, it’s incredibly sexy. Alistair is a very lucky man.”

“It feels more comfortable than I thought it would.” Starr turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes widened. “Sanga would love this,” she muttered. She couldn’t believe that was her looking so sexy and alluring, for the first time she saw herself as Alistair must see her. She looked at Grunilde and Hilse who were both smiling, well pleased with her reaction. “Thank you,” was all she had a chance to say before they got busy again. They carefully put the dress on over the Stone foundation and marked some final adjustments.

Leliana draped Alistair’s rose around her neck and sighed. The rose positively glowed against the silver and slate. “You look so romantic and elegant, like a queen or princess from the old legends. I do adore shopping. Now we just have to decide the best way to do your hair.” Starr occasionally spoke up but was mostly content to listen as the dress was removed for finishing and Leliana started playing with her hair. Grunilde had some very definite opinions as well; even Hilse spoke up. Finally, they were done for what was left of the night. Grunilde and Hilse would come back in the morning with the finished dress and Leliana would do her hair.

The redhead admired the large bed, “Do you think Alistair got lucky or did he request a room with a large bed? I was surprised to see one so large in Orzammar; it’s much bigger than any I’ve seen outside an Orlesian nobleman’s bedroom. And he entertained two or three visitors at a time.”

Starr giggled sleepily, “Stair can be surprisingly tricky. He doesn’t do it often so I forget.” She turned and looked at Leliana, “Three? Why would there be three in bed with him?” Leliana just smirked and Starr’s mind caught up. “Well,” she said after a minute, “of course. I don’t know why I asked.” She yawned and lay back, looking at the ceiling and imagining, and thinking about marriage. “I never thought I would get married, not since my parents died, anyway. Have you ever thought about marriage, Leliana?”

Leliana was quiet for a long time before she answered. “No, I loved somebody very much, once. It, it did not end well.” Starr looked at her and the sorrow on her face, there wasn’t much she could say so she took hold of the other woman’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. Leliana smiled quietly, “Alistair is nothing like M-, well, Alistair is honorable and capable of caring deeply. You are very fortunate, as is he.”

“Unbelievably fortunate, I don’t know how I got so lucky. One day I hope you find somebody who makes you happy, Leliana.” That was the last either of them spoke before falling asleep for what was left of the night.


	50. A Busy Day

Alistair woke up with a sense of expectation and exhilaration. Today he was going to marry the woman he loved. He knew that there would never be anybody else for him and he was beyond grateful that she had agreed to marry him. He turned his head and glared at the bed. Unfortunately for him, Leliana’s room had all dwarven-sized furnishings. The lithe redhead might be able to curl up comfortably, but he didn’t even bother to try. Tonight, however . . . he started to drift off as he thought ahead to the wedding night. He might have gone back to sleep if somebody hadn’t knocked on the door.

Zevran didn’t bother waiting for Alistair to open the door; he just picked the lock and strolled in. He chuckled at the disgruntled look on the warrior’s face, “Time to rise, my friend. We have much to do before your wedding. You should bathe before we go see the contenders for the throne. We must make a good impression, after all. With luck, we will be able to get through the morning without fighting anybody. We must make sure you keep your good looks for your wedding to the celestial Starr, after all. I imagine you are looking forward to this joining more than the last one,” he teased. Alistair blushed but he couldn’t contain a quick grin. Zevran made himself comfortable on the unused bed while Alistair stood up and stretched before going to bathe.

When Alistair was finished he started to put his armor on, he wanted to be ready in case things got ugly. Without a word, Zevran began helping him. Before they left the room, Zevran stopped him. “You know do you not that Starr asked me to stand for her today?” He looked up at the young man and grew serious, “Alistair, you are a good friend, and I never thought to have such. But Starr is infinitely precious to me, take care of her and be good to her. Swear it.”

Alistair knew how difficult it was for the Antivan to speak so openly and replied just as seriously, “Zevran, I promise you I will do my best to do both. She is more important to me than my life and I will do everything in my power to make her happy. I will protect her and Marcail with my last breath. You have my word.” He waited until Zevran acknowledged his vow before he asked for one of his own. “I trust you Zevran and I know you love Starr. We both know I might not survive; promise me you will take care of her and Marcail for me. Promise me you won’t leave her if I fall, that you will stay with her until she doesn’t need you. Help her find happiness. She trusts you and cares for you more than she realizes. And there is nobody I trust more to look after her. Elissa, I’m sure, will offer what support she can but she will be busy rebuilding the Grey Wardens. I know it’s not fair to you, but I’m asking anyway because I know you will put Starr and Marcail first.”

“This I would do anyway, rest assured my friend. If it eases your mind, I will give you my oath. I, Zevran Arainai, swear to you, Alistair Theirin, that should something happen to you I will do everything in my power to help Starr and Marcail any way they need for as long as it takes. I will not desert them.” As Alistair closed his eyes and nodded in relief Zevran reflected on how his world had changed since he failed to kill the Wardens. It was more complicated, true, but richer and so much more rewarding than his life with the Crows. “Lead on, my friend.”

A few hours later they were all back at Tapster’s.  Elissa was still grumbling about not meeting either Harrowmont or Bhelen, “I’m a Grey Warden not some noble looking to climb the political ladder or a lackey to do their dirty work.” It really burned her that Gavorn wanted her to deliver falsified evidence to two of Harrowmont’s supporters. “At least Dulin Forender’s request isn’t sleazy, or doesn’t appear to be.”

“Perhaps, but Bhelen appears to be a stronger leader if Harrowmont can’t get his own men to fight,” Zevran interjected.

“I’m not sure we can trust somebody who appears to be as duplicitous as Loghain or Howe. Who’s to say that after we do what he wants he won’t say, ‘Oops, sorry the darkspawn are swooping on you but it’s not my problem,’” Alistair countered. “Besides, it could be fun to be in the Proving.”

Morrigan pounced on his statement, “Duplicitous? My, that’s a big word for you, Alistair. Have you been practicing?”

At the same time Elissa snorted, “Fun in the Proving? Sometimes you are like a little boy, Alistair.” She shook her head but she was smiling. The Proving _could_ be fun. And she agreed with Alistair’s assessment.

“As entertaining as this discussion is becoming don’t we have a wedding to attend? Leliana hasn’t let Starr out of her room all morning. I must say, Alistair, Starr is a beautiful bride. You should probably go get ready yourself,” Wynne suggested. They all laughed at the speed with which Alistair left them in order to prepare.

An hour later Zevran was knocking on Starr’s door. Leliana opened it, “Ah, Zevran. The lovely bride is ready for you,” raising her voice she called out, “Starr, Zevran is here. It’s time.”

Starr walked out from behind the still curtained off bedroom area and Zevran literally stopped breathing, she looked so lovely. Her hair was a waterfall of loose curls, some of it pulled back with lace to better frame her face. Leliana had been very subtle in her use of cosmetics except with Starr’s mouth, which she painted a deep red to match Alistair’s rose. She and the rose glowed against the slate and silver dress. When he could catch his breath he went to her, “You have never looked lovelier, bellissima. Alistair is truly a fortunate man.” He bent to kiss her hand and hide the fact that tears were pricking the backs of his eyes. Oh yes, Alistair was very fortunate indeed. “Are you ready, madonna mia? Elissa and your templar are waiting with Brother Burkel.”

Starr had a sudden attack of nerves, “Am I doing the right thing Zevran? What if I’m no good at this wife stuff?” she almost chewed her lip before she remembered Leliana’s warnings about messing up her delicate work.

_“Fate has a sense of humor it seems,”_ Zevran thought wryly even as he hastened to reassure his young cousin. “Do you love him, bellissima?” Starr could only nod, as the power of speech seemed to have left her. “And he loves you, amora. If you wish to spend your life with him then you will learn to be a good wife to him just as he will have to learn to be a good husband to you. Trust in yourself and in your man and relax.”

His words settled her and Starr smiled. “Thank you, Zevran,” she said and hugged him, “I love you, I hope you know that. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Zevran continued to hold her in his arms, drinking in the smell and feel of her. His hands lightly stroked her back, “And I you, bellissima. Never doubt it.” He gave her rear a playful swat and let her go, holding out his arm for her to take, “Now we must get you to your wedding or your intended will think you have run off with Jorund.” Laughing, Starr took his arm and they went downstairs where the rest of their friends waited.

“It is quite adorned for its wedding to the other Warden. I do not understand why it wishes to join with it but I do approve of its choice of stone for the color of its gown. Well done, now let us go.”

“You look lovely my dear, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a more beautiful bride,” Wynne smiled at the young woman. The group then made its way through the Tavern.

On their way they were hailed by Jorund, the dwarf who had nicknamed Starr, “You look nice, LD. Why are you dressed so fancy?” When Starr told him she was on her way to get married he congratulated her and then thought for a minute, “I’ve never seen a human ceremony, is it true everybody gets to kiss the bride?”

Morrigan quickly answered him, “Yes, but only once after the ceremony and only on the day of the ceremony.” Jorund looked startled, but a shy smile spread over his face.

Starr looked at Morrigan with daggers in her gaze and then added sweetly, “Not just the bride, but the chief female witness as well, which is my good friend Morrigan. Only the groom doesn’t get to kiss her.”

“OK,” Jorund said before wandering off. Starr let out a sigh, wondering what they would find when they got back to Tapster’s.

“I suppose I should thank you for small favors, saying I don’t need to kiss Alistair,” Morrigan remarked snidely.

“I wonder how many will be lined up for their kiss? Maybe the Shaper will record this in the Memories,” Leliana giggled. “Alistair will be terribly frustrated, I think.” Laughing and teasing the group made its way to the new Orzammar Chantry.

When they arrived, the others took their places before Starr and Zevran entered. Alistair slowly turned to the entrance, all his focus on the woman with hair like moonbeams and starlight. He watched her coming towards him with Zevran and thought she had never been more beautiful. The dress of slate and silver was a perfect setting for her beauty, silver lace showing at the sides of the dress as she moved forward reminding him of the ripples of water, the glow of the rose outshone by the brilliance of her smile and shining blue eyes. When she reached him and took her place by his side, he felt so full of love and happiness he thought his heart might burst then and there.

Starr looked to the front of the Chantry and saw Alistair, she saw home. She had long thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen but never had he looked better to her than he did just then, his sunny gold coloring complemented by the midnight blue tunic and pants he wore, his expression telling her she was the most important person in the world. She felt the warmth and love of his gaze as he watched her come toward him, the promise in them enfolding her like an embrace. Standing beside him, she felt her heart turn over with emotion. He took her hands and they looked at a beaming Brother Burkel.

Brother Burkel was thrilled to be performing this ceremony. He could feel their love for each other as a pure and beautiful thing, surely, it was a reflection of the love the Maker felt for his children. He felt his Chantry couldn’t be off to a better start.

Wynne was glad she had kept silent earlier about her doubts about the wisdom of the two young people becoming involved. At first, she thought it unwise because Alistair was a Grey Warden with a heavy duty, but she was wrong. Love was too special and too rare to throw away. She could only hope that, wherever he was, her son would one day have a similar opportunity.

_“Flemeth used to say love was a weakness.”_ Morrigan watched the two people pledging themselves to each other and wondered if maybe her mother was wrong. _“Maybe it depends on the nature of the love or the two people involved. As far as Alistair is concerned, love seems to be making him stronger.”_ She sat there pondering, wondering what it would be like to be able to share as Alistair and Starr shared. She could admit to herself she was envious even as she knew such a thing would never, _could never,_ be for her.

Elissa was happy for her fellow Warden. Watching him exchange vows with Starr reminded her of the last family wedding she attended, Fergus’ wedding. Tears threatened to spill but she blinked them back. From her vantage point, she wasn’t surprised to see that Leliana was also blinking back tears; the redhead was a bit sentimental and the two people getting married epitomized romance.

Brother Burkel finished saying the words that bound them as husband and wife. Slowly Starr and Alistair, her hands in his, leaned in to each other. Their first kiss as a married couple was a leisurely and gentle mix of tenderness and banked passions. Before turning to face their friends, Alistair lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it reverently. “Hello, wife,” he whispered. He didn’t give her a chance to respond before tucking her hand in his arm as they were congratulated.

Fortunately, for Alistair’s patience and Morrigan’s temper only a handful of men, led by Jorund, were waiting at Tapster’s to kiss the bride and her friend. When Corra complained, Alistair picked her up and gave her a smacking big kiss on the lips, causing everybody to laugh good-naturedly, even Morrigan. Corra proclaimed a round of drinks on the house to celebrate, which put everybody in an even better mood. Even though there was no music, Alistair insisted on dancing with his wife to the amusement of the patrons. Fen danced around them, adding to the hilarity. Zevran bowed to Leliana and they joined in. Corra snorted something about crazy humans, but wished this group came more often. Business was good. Leliana got her lute and played several dance tunes that got everybody dancing. Jorund danced with Starr, Corra and even Hilse who managed to get away from her mother for a while.

Starr and Alistair had no idea how long the party lasted. As soon as they could decently do so, they left to go to their room. Remembering what they had done for Bella, Elissa and Leliana had led the others in transforming the newlyweds’ room into a bower of romance complete with candles, wine, and all sorts of food so the couple wouldn’t have to leave for something as prosaic as a meal. Alistair picked up his bride to carry her over the threshold then spun her around before setting her down slowly even as he kicked the door shut. “Maker, you steal my breath away. You are so beautiful; I don’t think I will ever get enough of looking at you. I love you, Starrelena Theirin,” he kissed her slowly and thoroughly.

“You are so handsome, Stair. When I saw you waiting with Brother Burkel, I felt I was coming home for the first time in years. I love you so much, husband,” she answered him, nuzzling his neck.

Alistair closed his eyes, giving thanks to the Maker at his good fortune as he held his wife, his **wife** , in his arms. He stepped back so he could look at her, “I don’t know how you did it, or how Leliana did it, finding this dress for you. When I saw you coming down the aisle I was reminded of when I saw you at the waterfall, so beautiful it made my heart ache.” He slipped behind her and embraced her, resting his head against hers so he could whisper in her ear, “a part of me wants to rip it off you, ravage you.” She shivered in his arms at the thought. The lace over her shoulders and breasts was open at the bottom instead of being sewn to the dress underneath; the movement had tantalized Alistair until he was nearly crazed. Ever so slowly, he slid his hand up and under the lace, Starr leaning against him and moaning when his hand slipped beneath the dress to gently caress her breast and tease the nipple to a peak. He removed his hand, “but a bigger part of me wants to go slow, so slow it’s a torture for both of us,” leisurely he nibbled at her ear.

When she moved to undo the fastenings of her clothes, he stopped her. “No, I want to do this.” Even as his hands slowly but thoroughly fondled her body he searched for the openings and fastenings to her clothes. Leisurely, kissing her bare flesh as it was exposed, he removed the lace bodice. He took his time caressing, kissing, licking those strong shoulders, the elegant curve of her neck, and the tops of her breasts. The gown’s neckline stopped just short of her nipples. He resisted the temptation to slide his hands under the luxurious fabric. Instead, he held her face in his hands, looking at her with love and desire before tasting her lips.

Starr thought she would go mad even as she reveled in the sensations he inspired. She resolved to keep with the slow pace he set, no matter how hard it became. So she did nothing to remove his clothes, yet. Her hands traversed his back, feeling his muscles ripple through the cloth. When she moved her hands down to that tight rear and lightly scratched, she was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. He shivered when she teased him by sliding her fingers under his tunic and played with the line of skin above his waistband. As he traced the lines of her body through her gown, gently kneading and caressing, she was nuzzling and nipping the skin at his neck exposed by his tunic and gently, slowly, opening it further.

Finally, finally he loosened her gown and slid it off her shoulders, holding her close so it didn’t fall right away. He teased her as much as himself with the promise of what was still to come. When he finally let her dress fall, he nearly fell to his knees when he saw her in the white lace Stone. “Holy Maker!” he exclaimed, but there was nothing saintly about the desire burning in his eyes. He was so hard he ached. When Starr reached forward and began loosening his tunic his hands were on her waist, exploring the skin through the thin covering. She bent down and kissed his stomach muscles as she ever so slowly removed his tunic. She kissed and licked the skin from his stomach to his chest, her tongue swirling the hairs in her path. Even after she removed the tunic, she was still tonguing and teething his nipples until they were both hard little peaks. She repeated the process with his britches, now he was the tortured and she the torturer. As soon as he could kick them away, he picked her up, carried her to the bed and tossed her in the middle. Quickly he scrambled to her and held her down on the mattress. Slowly he kissed and caressed her legs, not allowing her to remove the lace. The heat of his mouth on her skin at the same time feeling it through the lace of the Stone nearly had Starr begging.

He palmed her; even through the lace, he could tell she was more than ready. He kissed her mound even as he found and undid the ties between her legs. He kissed and licked her thighs near her entrance and then moved up to her navel. He teethed the sensitive area while his fingers gently parted her. Alistair moved up to her breasts, his manhood rubbing between her thighs, the lace against his member providing an exquisite friction. He refused to let her undo the garment, she was so beautiful and sexy and delectable, a giant piece of candy he was determined to savor. Her sighs and moans were music to his ears even as he labored to maintain the slow pace he had set for them, his body trembling with need. Inch by slow inch his mouth moved to hers, inch by slow inch he entered her, the wet heat of her feminine core enticing him. Her muscles clenching around him and pulling him in further. Before he buried himself in her, he kissed her with all the passion he’d been holding back, “I love you, Starr,” he whispered and thrust, hard. Then he rolled over so she was on top and he could watch that lace clad body as she reached her climax. He grasped her hips as she rode, his thrusts eagerly meeting hers. She screamed his name and he exploded, bringing them both.

Starr practically fell on his chest, gasping for air. He was still inside her, both of them quivering with the aftershocks. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. They lay like that, rubbing their faces together, gently kissing. Alistair started stroking her back and rear while he brought his breathing under control. Then Starr started giggling, “I think I need more of these.” Alistair quirked an eyebrow at her and she skimmed her hand down the Stone. As his eyes followed the path of her hand, she could feel him twitching inside her and closed her eyes at the sensation. When she opened them she saw the desire reignited in his gaze, “I want you to wonder, from one day to the next, if I might be wearing one.”

His eyes practically crossed at the thought. She laughed even as he rolled over and pinned her underneath him. Alistair growled at her, “You are a wicked, wicked woman,” before he savaged her mouth and began moving inside her, already hard again. She was so sensitized it didn’t take long to catch up. This time there was no holding back, no slow buildup. It was raw desire. At some point, the Stone did come off, but it was a long, long night for the newlyweds. Dawn was long past before they slid into an exhausted slumber.


	51. The, Ugh, Deep Roads

Alistair was right; the Proving was fun. Winning had been even better. Getting Harrowmont’s men back in the ring was quite satisfying and made her feel better about agreeing to support the man over Bhelen. She sniggered softly to herself as she thought about that morning. She’d wanted to give the newly married couple as much time together as possible, but when they still didn’t show their faces by late morning she and Zevran grabbed a pot of what Orzammar considered coffee and went up to their room.

_Repeated knocking brought no results at all. Finally, Zevran stepped forward and picked the locks and they went in, calling out to Starr and Alistair. At some point, they had neatly put away their wedding clothes, but that was the only neat point in the room. In the middle of the floor was a pile of white lace, Zevran held it up and whistled. “Seeing the celestial Starr in this would certainly be enough to stop a man’s heart while inspiring raging desire.” They were making no effort to be quiet, yet neither of the lovebirds made a sound._

_“Judging by the state of the room, maybe they killed each other,” Elissa said half-jokingly._

_“Ah, but what a way to go, sí? Wouldn’t you rather die as a result of intense love-making with a handsome man such as myself?” Zevran countered, even as his eyes swept the room as if recreating the events of the past several hours. They approached the curtain hiding the bed and drew it aside. There were the people they sought, eyes closed, tangled in and partially covered by the sheets. Starr was halfway sprawled on top of Alistair, head pillowed on his chest and his one arm loosely holding her close while the other stretched out to the side as if to anchor them. Elissa took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the bodies in front of her. Alistair was very well-built indeed, clearly defined muscles everywhere she looked. Zevran cautioned her to silence, and eased onto the bed next to the warrior and put his head on Alistair’s chest so he could look at Starr. He gently stroked her hair, “Good morning, bellissima.”_

_She looked tired, beautiful and well used. She opened slumberous eyes but couldn’t work up the energy to glare at him. “Go ‘way, Zevran, it’s not morning yet,” and she snuggled even closer to Alistair and closed her eyes again. Zevran couldn’t resist, he moved forward just enough to kiss her, pulling her lower lip gently into his mouth and sucking on it, his tongue teasing._

_“What are you doing with my wife, Zev?” Alistair grumbled sleepily while pulling Starr away from the elf._

_Elissa had to bite back a laugh, especially when Zevran answered. “Jealous, Alistair?” He remembered the first time he saw the warrior and thinking what a delightfully pouty mouth he had. Zevran considered himself a fair man, so he swooped onto that pouty mouth. No gentleness this time. Alistair’s strangled oath was muffled, giving Zevran the opening he needed to slip his tongue inside. He had to be quick, but he was determined to be thorough. He rolled out of reach before the warrior was awake enough to untangle himself and react._

_Elissa laughingly handed each of them a cup of coffee while Zevran busied himself getting their armor ready. Alistair and Starr arranged the sheets around themselves and drank greedily. One arm holding his wife to his side, Alistair spoke up, “Now that Zevran has had his fun,” and he glared at the elf who smirked back cheekily, “how much time do we have before the Proving?”_

That was four days ago. If only the Proving had settled things. But no, then they had to deal with an overactive crime group called the Carta and now they were on what was probably a fruitless quest to find a mad Paragon while saddled with her drunk of a husband. When she thought about the part they played in the demise of the Carta she had some bad moments; Jarvia may have been too greedy or ambitious, but the Carta provided a lot of casteless opportunities to live better that they wouldn’t have had otherwise. In fact, the whole casteless system left a bad taste in her mouth. From what she could tell Dust Town was only marginally better than the, ugh, Deep Roads. She was starting to share Starr’s loathing of spiders. Giant spiders were every-bloody-where they went. She would probably feel their sticky webs against her skin for years.

“Can you feel it? A low-level hum emanating from the walls themselves?” Alistair asked her. He was concerned; Elissa had been increasingly abrupt since they left Orzammar, which wasn’t like her.

“Is that from the darkspawn? It’s more noticeable in some places than others.”

“The Stone remembers,” Oghren interjected, “some hoity-toity nug-humpers say the Stone itself has absorbed some of the darkspawn essence, stronger where there’ve been lots of darkspawn recently or where they holed for a long period of time. They say if the darkspawn leave, their essence will become nothing more than a shadow of a memory. I guess you Wardens would be more sensitive to it.”

Elissa sighed, “Another reason not to like caves and tunnels then. I remember when I was five Fergus let go of my hand when we were in one and I got lost. Luckily, it was abandoned; it was two days before they found me. On the plus side Fergus was my virtual slave for a week.” She laughed just a little, “it ended when I asked him to be my pony for the umpteenth time. He went back to being my normal big brother and ignoring me or teasing me, but he was very careful never to lose me again.”

Alistair took her aside, “Is that what’s bothering you, the fact we’re spending so much time in caves and tunnels? I thought it might be the darkspawn you were sensing. I can tell you it makes my skin itch.”

“How do you stand it? How can you get any sleep?” Elissa really wanted to know before too many nights of poor sleep affected her judgment or abilities.

“Starr. She, I don’t know, grounds me. Holding her at night acts as a buffer, I guess. Maybe you should try it.”

Elissa smirked, she couldn’t help it, “Do you really want me sleeping with your wife?” When Alistair’s mouth dropped open, she laughed for the first time in days.

“That’s not what I meant,” Alistair sputtered, “I mean think about sleeping with Zevran or Leliana, and no I don’t mean sex, jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, I mean sleep. See if they can act as a buffer for you. I suppose more experienced Wardens can block it out just like the nightmares.”

“Alistair, can I ask you a personal question?”

He looked at her warily, “You can ask, but I don’t promise to answer.”

“Fair enough. Does being with Starr help with the nightmares? I know she makes you happy, I’ve never seen you happier or more confident. But the nightmares . . .” her voice trailed off in a shudder.

Alistair took a moment to think. “Yes and no. I have just as many, as far as I can tell. But being with her helps me calm down faster, sometimes she’s awake and deliberately tries to soothe me, sometimes I think that even when I’m asleep she does that and makes the nightmare less intense. So, I’ve been able to, if not sleep more at least relax more. But I think that’s because of our feelings for each other.” Elissa nodded in understanding. “Elissa, I didn’t think about this before because you’re a complete rogue and could never learn any warrior abilities, but maybe you could try joining us in our morning meditations. They’re really training exercises for your mind and might help you learn to focus your will and block out the buzzing you feel, at least make you more comfortable during the day. Maybe meditating last thing at night will also help.” He shrugged diffidently, “it’s probably a stupid idea but you never know.”

“I, thanks Alistair. I’d like to give that a try. It certainly can’t hurt. I’ll tell you one thing, treaty or no, I’m not staying down here forever looking for some mad woman who got a bug up her ass. If we don’t find her after a reasonable amount of time we’ll have to skip the dwarves, I’m not going to risk losing all of Ferelden to the Blight because they can’t figure out their own politics.” She rubbed her forehead where a headache was forming. “Enough of that, let’s get a move on before Morrigan turns Oghren into a frog for putting his hands on her. Again. Didn’t he pinch Starr’s bottom when he learned her nickname?”

“Don’t remind me. I told him to keep his hands to himself and off my wife. Starr had already said something to him and he told me he would treat her with the utmost respect. I’m still watching him, though.” Alistair looked for the dwarf and saw him pestering Morrigan and nowhere near Starr.

Elissa elbowed him, “How long do you think you’re going to enjoy calling Starr ‘your wife?’” Alistair grinned at her and they joined the others and moved forward.

They didn’t see the darkspawn or any signs of Branka when they made their way to Caridin’s Cross; instead, they saw a bunch of Bhelen’s men who made the mistake of trying to stop them. Caridin’s Cross was crawling with a variety pack of trouble. When it wasn’t political enemies, it was darkspawn. When either of those didn’t trouble them, there were giant spiders and deepstalkers. Actually, the deepstalkers were more of a nuisance, there were a lot of them and they were fast. Fen was faster. Fen and Griffon actually seemed to enjoy toying with the ugly little creatures. Ultimately, the Wardens did make progress. After several tunnels, caves and ruined corridors they found a way to Ortan Thaig, Branka’s goal according to Oghren.

Ortan Thaig. Elissa stepped back so Oghren could take a moment and experience the wonder of finding the Paragon’s original home, a place lost to the darkspawn for centuries. “Ortan Thaig,” Oghren said softly in a tone of reverence, “Caridin’s home before he became a Paragon. These marks on the walls, Branka’s been here. I hope we find her here; I don’t want to have to go to Bownammar. Bownammar was home to the Legion of the Dead, but now it’s home for the darkspawn. Thousands of ‘em. But maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Don’t count on it,” Alistair muttered under his breath. Forward they went. At another time, under different circumstances they might have enjoyed exploring the old thaig. Battling ghosts and golems took care of that. It was difficult to enjoy the old craftsmanship when some blasted ghost was trying to cut off your head. There were a great many more spiders as well, even bigger ones. Fen and Starr were furiously slashing through the eight-legged monsters. They met a crazed dwarf, Ruck, who was mostly a ghoul. He was hard to talk to but they did find out from him the darkspawn had left the area and that the crawlers had taken away a bunch of papers to their giant nest.

Starr wandered for a moment, kicking rocks, Fen at her side. She squatted next to him and put her arms around his neck, “Sorry Fen, it looks like we have to go right into a nest of giant spiders.” He whimpered a little then huffed. She scratched behind his ears, “Yeah.” Their mood did not improve when they had to fight more ghosts and golems first. Starr frowned when they saw spiders, or crawlers, moving away from them instead of attacking them. They weren’t _running_ away, they were _moving_ away which implied some sort of purpose. “Something’s up. Be careful, these creatures aren’t acting like typical spiders.” She thought a moment, “They’re acting a bit like the spiders in the forest. I don’t like this.”

Alistair rubbed the back of her neck. “At least there isn’t a lot of soft ground, debris, or a bunch of trees to use for ambushing us. I’m not going to let some spider take you now that we’re finally married.” Starr grinned and quickly kissed him on the cheek and moved on.

“Fresh _*burp*_ married, huh? Still got that new shine.” Oghren swaggered over to Alistair. “How long you been strapped together?” The stench of stale booze surrounded him like flies swarming over fresh dung.

“Um, not long. Four days, seventeen hours and thirty-three minutes, if you want to be exact.” Alistair was glad he was tall enough not to be in the thick of the smell. “What about you and Branka?” Alistair figured talking to Oghren was one way to keep him from bothering Starr or Morrigan. The things he did for love. Maybe if they just threw the dwarf at the Archdemon it would keel over from the smell.

Oghren appeared to be thinking about it. After another long burp, he answered, “About three years before she left for the sodding Deep Roads. She was a brilliant girl but she was a bit sky-touched, if you know what I mean.” Oghren shook his head in disgust and wandered off to get a look at Morrigan’s boobs again. His mood lifted after they killed all the spiders plus some emissaries and they found Branka’s journal. She mentioned him; his spirits weren’t even dampened by the fact they would have to go to the Dead Trenches after all.


	52. Finding Branka

_“Branka was beyond sky-touched”_ Oghren thought, sitting by himself. _“Not only does she take up with that water-tart Hespith, she sacrificed our entire house in her search for some old relic. Even if it did possess some Stone-blessed power, there’s no excuse for what she did._ **Letting** _the darkspawn create broodmothers?!”_ Oghren didn’t know whether to be sad or outraged, so he drank. He drank a lot.

The Wardens and their companions were all shaken by what they found. Seeing the Archdemon and the darkspawn army was sobering. Discovering Branka’s treachery was bad and some felt pity for Oghren, but the knowledge that women were converted by some tortuous process into breeding machines by the darkspawn was vile and sickening. The women of the party were all very quiet during a break after defeating the broodmother, formerly known as Laryn. Nobody really felt like eating, but they did so anyway.

Starr wondered if somewhere deep inside a part of Laryn still existed in the Broodmother and was aware of what she, it, was doing. She shuddered at the idea. Alistair sat down next to her and hugged her close to him. The thought of that happening to his Starr shook him. He wondered what else Duncan never got around to telling him. Nuzzling her hair, he asked her if she was alright. “I don’t want to ever end up like that, Stair. What if Laryn is still inside and aware of the horrible things she’s doing? Aware of how she’s being used?” She leaned against him for comfort.

“No, her mind would have been gone long before then. Look at Hespith, she doesn’t have much left of herself, it’s sheer willpower that has kept her from succumbing so far. Once that’s gone, there won’t be anything of Hespith left. Maybe that’s a blessing in a way. I won’t let that happen to you, Starr, I promise.” He could feel her relax against him and wished desperately they were back at Tapster’s and they could forget the world in each other’s arms. He felt cold inside at the thought of Starr in the hands of the darkspawn.

Elissa joined them. “Did you know about this Alistair?” she demanded. When Alistair shook his head, Elissa scowled. “I wonder what else we don’t know, seems to me the Wardens were a bit too secretive. We’ll have to change that, but not today. Let’s get going. Maybe we’ll find bloody Branka’s body for Harrowmont. Maker, I’ll be glad to get out of here,” she grumbled. Luckily, Oghren was too far away to hear her. She stomped over to Oghren. When she saw the misery on his face, her whole attitude gentled. “Oghren,” she said quietly, “you know Branka best. Any ideas what we might expect?”

Oghren sighed gustily, to her credit Elissa did not take a step back, “Warden, I never thought she’d sacrifice our entire house, I never knew she had interests in other women. It may be done on the surface, but it’s not exactly a dwarven thing. If she’d talked to me, maybe we could have . . . anyway, that’s not what you want to know. She may be cracked as a broken mirror but she’s still got a brilliant mind. She’ll take precautions against people coming after her. Can’t help wondering if the reason nobody found her before now is because anybody who got close got dead. Stupid nug-licker. Becoming Paragon was the worst thing to happen to her. Let’s just go and get this over with, Warden.” Swaying, Oghren got to his feet and started walking.

They made their way through some ingenious traps and found the Anvil of the Void. And not only the Anvil. Paragon Caridin was alive. Well, alive-ish. Turned into a golem when he refused to destroy more souls. Branka was so obsessed that she couldn’t even hear what Caridin was saying, only that he wanted to destroy the Anvil. In her way, she was as lost to the Stone as Laryn. A woman who would willingly sacrifice her house to the darkspawn and Caridin’s traps wasn’t going to be concerned about the agony and destruction of those used to make golems. Once Branka was defeated, Caridin made a crown for Elissa to give to whomever then sought what must have been a welcome oblivion in the lava flowing in the ravine below.

It was a somber group that made its way back to Orzammar. They had a crown for the new king, information for the Shaper and information about Shale. And news of two dead Paragons. In the Assembly, they had to quell a rebellion for Bhelen was prepared in case the verdict went against him. Elissa was weary beyond mere tiredness. Outside of Tapster’s she stopped them, “I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. We have our troops and I want to see sunlight again. Unless anybody has an objection, I suggest we clean up, pack up, eat, and go. We’ll replenish our supplies on the way out.” Everybody agreed. Oghren held her back for a minute while the rest of them went inside to their rooms.

In their room, Starr and Alistair didn’t say anything. More than they wanted each other at that moment they wanted to scrape off the filth of the last few days. Even Fen wanted a bath. Starr took care of him first, “Come on Fen, let’s enjoy this part of dwarven engineering one more time.” She took off her armor, got some plain soap and a stiff brush and quietly got to work on her friend. Alistair cleaned armor while she cleaned wolf. Clean and brushed, Fen went to his place in the sitting area near the fire and relaxed for the first time in days.

Starr got her own scented soap and dropped her under clothes. Alistair felt a slow and welcome heat building inside him as he watched her and heard her mutter, “I don’t care if it does delay us, I am washing my hair.” His armor was done and he was halfway finished with her armor.

When she sluiced the water over her head, and it ran down her hair and body he quickly finished. Quietly taking off his own under things he joined her. “May I?” he asked quietly but didn’t wait for an answer as he took the cloth and the soap from her. Quietly, gently, reverently he soaped her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. Repeatedly he soaped, rinsed and soothed from head to toe. Her eyes eased from brown to soft pewter and clear grey then a calm blue as the filth and tension of the last few days was washed away. Reverently and gratefully, she returned the favor, the lines on his brow smoothing away with her touch. He moaned when she dug her fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp. She sighed in quiet ecstasy when he wet and lathered her hair. His hands and fingers strong but gentle as he washed the silver strands until they were like silk again. Alistair rinsed the last of the soap from both of them then picked her up and carried her to the bed. Grabbing towels and a brush, he settled onto the mattress. When she would have embraced him, he stopped her. “Not yet, I just want to hold you, Starr, I **need** to just hold you.”

“Stair,” she sighed and went into his arms, warm inside and out. She wrapped herself around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder where she could nuzzle. Her hands lightly stroked his back but otherwise she was still. He breathed in deeply of her scent and carefully rubbed her hair as dry as possible before picking up the brush. Long, slow strokes were a gentle caress. His teeth oh so lightly nibbling her ear. Patiently he continued, soaking up her nearness, love a gentle blanket over the two of them. He could feel her nipples tightening against his chest, could feel her dampness against his growing erection but still he brushed her hair. When he finally put the brush down, she shifted until she could ease herself on his manhood, lowering herself until she was filled with him. His hands found her hips and held her close. Her lips sought his and gently brushed over them. Slowly they rocked together in a gentle rhythm, a quiet passion, a time for tenderness, comfort, and renewal.


	53. Oghren

Alistair was exhausted. The Deep Roads and Orzammar had done something to him, maybe because he was a Grey Warden. She noticed that with Elissa, too. Starr didn’t have the heart to wake him just because she couldn’t sleep. She looked down lovingly at him, her husband. Husband. That word had so much weight to it, and came with so much joy. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t sleep? No, the air felt different. There was a silence she wasn’t used to hearing, and it was heavy. She peeked through the tent flap; it was snowing. She sort of remembered seeing snow fall before, but not like this. The flakes were so big she could see the lace detail of each one, and so many! She quickly pulled on a shirt and britches and stepped outside, barefoot. She looked up at the sky, reveling in the wonder of the moment and knew what she had to do.

Quickly and silently, she made her way to the tent of the newest member of their group. Opening it, she was met by the odor of stale beer and odd foods. Fortunately for all of them Elissa had insisted Oghren bathe regularly and clean his armor if he was going to travel with them so the smell was not as bad as it could have been. Starr ignored it and pulled on the arm of the sleeping dwarf inside, “Come on, come on, this won’t take long,” she whispered as Oghren slowly opened his eyes and looked blearily at her. Grumbling under his breath about idiot humans, he started to pull on his armor. Starr stopped him, “You don’t need that. Come with me, I want to show you something,” and pulled on his arm some more. She finally pulled him hard enough that they fell out of his tent, Oghren on top.

_“Built like the best dwarva, alright, Alistair is a lucky man,”_ and he took advantage of the situation to waggle his chin and beard across her breasts. He was careful to grumble at her while he savored lying on top of all her curves, it had been a long time since he’d been this close to a woman, “I’m out. Whaddaya want?”

Starr pushed aside the intriguing notion of getting Stair to grow a beard and rolled Oghren next to her. “Look up, it’s snowing! And not just any snow, big beautiful pieces of lace are falling down, aren’t they exquisite?” and she swept her arm as if encompassing the night.

Oghren looked up and felt wonder. He sat up and held out his hand, and watched the flakes fall and slowly melt against his skin. He looked down at Starr, her eyes sparkling blue with innocent joy as she watched the snow. Fat crystals caught in her hair and lashes, gruffly he replied, “Yeah, beautiful,” and looked away into the night. She sat up next to him and tried to catch the flakes on her tongue before sitting quietly. Oghren didn’t think he had ever shared a moment of quiet companionship with anybody before. Branka had never been given to silently looking at things and just experiencing the moment. “Why did you want me to see this?” he finally asked.

“I wanted you to see something wonderful. Snow like this is rare, or at least I haven’t seen it before. I know you’ve never been on the surface before; I know what it’s like to find yourself surrounded by people and an environment you don’t understand. It can be, I don’t know, overwhelming and disconcerting, even frustrating.” Starr looked at him with gentle understanding, “You have a friend, Oghren, if that’s what you want. I want you to know you can talk to me if you feel like you don’t know where you are or whether you’re upside down or right side up. That’s all,” she took his hand in hers and turned her head to admire the snowy picture all around them.

Oghren was touched, though he would never admit it. “Humph, thanks,” he snorted, but kept his hand in hers. Finally, he noticed she was shivering, and while he could admire the way her nipples stood out through her shirt, now clingy and damp from melting snow, he wasn’t going to repay her kindness by letting her get frostbite. He stood up and pulled her to her feet, gulping at how close her gorgeous breasts came to his face, “Come on, you need to get back inside before you freeze to death. Crazy humans,” he muttered under his breath.

In the short time it took to reach the tent she shared with that sodding pike-twirler Alistair, Starr was starting to turn blue and she was shivering. Oghren snorted, “Look at you, you’re as cold as one of them thingamabobs, icicles!”

Starr looked at him, and in spite of her shivering her grin was one of pure wicked delight. “Then I guess I better find a way to warm up fast, don’t you agree?”

Oghren snorted and pinched her bottom before pushing her inside. He stood outside the tent for a minute, listening. He was rewarded when he heard Alistair’s yelp and startled shout, “Ow, Maker’s breath you’re cold!” Seconds later, “How did you get so cold, even there? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He wandered off to his tent, picturing the scene behind him and grinning. Maybe the surface wasn’t so bad; it had snow.


	54. On to the Brecelian Forest

Starr was nervous. Chances were that it wouldn’t be Keeper Aranella’s clan they met in the Brecelian Forest. It wasn’t an area she favored during the five years Starr lived with them, the Keeper preferred the area between the north edge of the forest and the coast and west towards Highever. She’d been very fortunate that day several years ago. If the hunters hadn’t found her, she would have died. She tried to remember what she knew of other clans. There were about half a dozen that regularly traveled in Ferelden, though she could only remember the names of two of the other keepers, Marethari and Zathrian. Marethari was a skilled healer, Aranella was thinking of sending her First to Marethari for more training in the healing arts. Aranella’s talents lay in a different direction and for the good of the clan, she wanted somebody capable of higher levels of healing. Zathrian was old, old even among elves and reputed to be severe. Or maybe that was her own interpretation as she looked back. The few times his name was mentioned it was with respect but also with reserve, though she couldn’t remember anybody saying anything against him.

She startled when Alistair joined her and brushed some leaves out of her hair. “What’s wrong? You seem a bit distracted,” he said. Jokingly he added, “You’re not thinking of getting rid of me, I hope.”

Starr snickered, “You guessed my deep dark secret. I’m running away with Oghren and we’re going to travel throughout Thedas until we’ve sampled every type of ale there is, then we’re going to start racing mabari-drawn chariots.” Alistair’s only response was to swat her on the rear. Their little exchange actually relaxed her and she admitted the truth. “I’m nervous. I don’t want to let you and Elissa down. One of the reasons I’m traveling with you is my knowledge of the Dalish. I’m nervous because we might be meeting with the clan I know and I’m nervous because we might be meeting another clan. Listen to me, I can’t even decide why I’m nervous,” she scowled at the forest floor.

He laughed and gave her a quick hug, “I adore you. You could never let me down, unless you really run away with Oghren, and if there’s any problem with whatever clan we meet it’s on them, not you.” They continued walking together a bit, Starr’s eyes constantly searching for signs of the Dalish or trouble. Alistair cleared his throat, “We could go looking for them after all this is over, if you like.”

Starr turned towards him and smiled, “We could look for a long time and not find them, but I appreciate the thought. The Dalish are not likely to stay in one place if they hear humans are looking for them. I think we’re getting close to one of the clans, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Alistair was curious.

“I was wondering as well, I haven’t seen anything,” Leliana joined them.

Starr looked around, “We haven’t seen quite as much game. This appears to be a healthy and flourishing forest. Darkspawn have obviously not infected this part of the forest and human hunters leave more evidence behind. Dalish don’t waste anything and they are very careful with what they don’t use. Respectful. Most human hunters tend to take what they want and just leave the rest; there would be more ground disturbance, scavenger activity.” She looked for and found Fen, “Fen doesn’t sense any other people, so I doubt we will reach their clan tonight. It’s possible, but unlikely, that we’ll meet a scout or hunter today.” She bit her lip, thinking, “If there is a hunter in the area they may watch to see what we do. I think we need to be prepared for somebody to be watching us until we reach the Dalish.”

“I shall let Elissa know we are getting closer,” and Leliana silently faded away.

“I’m always amazed at how quietly she can move even when she isn’t trying,” Alistair looked at Starr. “You can move just as quietly when you want to, but you don’t always try.”

She put her hands on her hips in some exasperation, “Why would I unless I’m scouting or something? Stair, have you seen me? I’m almost as tall as you are, I’m not exactly skinny and I have long very light hair. No matter how quietly I move I’m not going to blend into the crowd.”

He leered and waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh, “I’ve seen you, alright. I like your curves,” he put an arm around her waist, “and I’ll be happy to show you how much later, baby.”

She lightly punched his arm, “Sometimes you are so goofy. But I won’t object if you want to ‘appreciate’ my curves.” She leaned into him and whispered something in his ear that caused him to look at her with so much heat he could have set the forest ablaze. She slipped away before he could do or say anything else.

As Starr predicted they didn’t find any scouts or hunters. They set up camp and there was an air of anticipation, they all knew that soon they would be talking to the Dalish and taking care of the last treaty. That evening Starr was relaxing and leaning against a tree, eyes closed and thinking about the Dalish. Her mind drifted to the years she and Marcail lived with Keeper Aranella. She smiled as she remembered how, even though they were still suspicious of her, the rest of the clan were completely open and warm to Marcail. Her son never lacked for love and affection. She drifted to sleep and didn’t wake when Alistair picked her up and carried her to their tent.

The next morning Starr knew they would meet the clan sometime that day. It wasn’t because of any signs she saw or heard, but something she knew in her heart. With that in mind, she made sure that the journals she had specially prepared for the keeper were readily available. She spoke to Elissa, “We might as well walk together. We don’t want those watching to think we’re trying to sneak up on their camp. They’ll be very suspicious of us, even if I know them they’re not going to just let us waltz in. Everybody will need to be polite. We don’t need to put their backs up by appearing to be disrespectful. They have good reasons to be wary of outsiders.”

She found herself walking with Oghren. After some hemming and hawing, he asked the question, “Huh, if they’re so, what you call wary, then how’d you end up living with ‘em?”

Starr went very still. “That’s, that’s a fair question. The Dalish are wary of outsiders but not heartless. They are not so suspicious that they would refuse to help a broken and bloodied thirteen-year-old child alone in the forest. They brought me to their keeper. They didn’t find any family or anybody else so she decided I should stay with them, at least until I was healed.”

Oghren snorted, “I hope the bastards that hurt you are dead.” He offered her some of his brew. Starr was too surprised not to take a sip.

Her eyes crossed and she coughed but she took a second swallow before she handed it back to him, “Thank you, Oghren.” Her voice was a bit huskier than normal, but she was still standing and she considered that a victory.

“Curves like a dwarva, strong like a dwarva, I bet you could even drink like a dwarva with some practice. * _burp*_ Sure you don’t got some dwarf in ya?” She just laughed.

As soon as they saw hunters ahead, Starr and the Wardens moved to the front. A female elf appeared to be their leader and she called for them to stop.

“Okay, Starr, time to do your thing,” Elissa muttered.

Starr stepped forward, “Atisha, emma Elvhen falon. Aren aravel la isala dirth na keeper.[1]”

Mithra nodded her head in guarded welcome. “I am surprised to meet a shemlen who speaks Dalish. What business do you have with our Keeper, if I may ask?”

“My name is Starrelena Feyorlin and I travel with the Grey Wardens Elissa and Alistair on a matter of great urgency.”

“Grey Wardens? If you truly travel with Grey Wardens then I shall take you to the Keeper right away. But be warned, our hunters will have their arrows on you.” Mithra gestured them forward and walked beside Starr after giving a hard look at Fen. “This wolf travels with you?”

“Fen and I have been together almost eight years. Is there a problem?”

Mithra hesitated, “It is unfortunate; I suggest you keep him close by your side. Keeper Zathrian will explain more if he is so inclined. Where did you learn to speak the language of the People?”

“My grandmother was Dalish and I lived with the clan of Keeper Aranella for a few years.”

“Keeper Aranella? Then,” Mithra abandoned whatever she was going to say as they reached Keeper Zathrian. “Keeper, Starrelena Feyorlin travels with these Grey Wardens to speak to you. I thought I should bring them to you right away.”

“Enansalen[2], Keeper Zathrian. This is the Grey Warden Elissa and this is the Grey Warden Alistair.” She gave a respectful bow and stepped back, so the Wardens could speak to the Keeper. The Keeper was not at all happy to see Fen and Griffon, so she moved them back with her and farther away from Zathrian. He was severe as she had heard, and she didn’t trust him. She sensed a bitterness and a dark air of secrecy in him that worried her. There was an air of sadness and anger everywhere she looked. She expected to see more hunters, but supposed they could all be out in the forest. She had many questions.

Some of her questions were answered when Zathrian took them to a section of camp set aside for the sick and injured. A curse, an infection spread by werewolves during recent attacks. At least she understood the looks directed towards Fen and, to a lesser degree, Griffon. But why the attacks? She was brought out of her musings when she heard Elissa say, “That is a question best answered by Starrelena, she lived in an Alienage for a time.”

“A shemlen living in an Alienage!” Lanaya, Zathrian’s First, exclaimed. “That is unexpected.” She turned towards Starr and repeated her question.

“The unexpected is normal where bellissima is concerned,” Zevran interjected with a brief laugh.

Starr rolled her eyes at that before answering Lanaya. “It is a hard life, to be sure. Unfortunately, in Denerim the Arl was not sympathetic or overly concerned with the elves in his Arling. But that does not mean there is no joy. The elves in the Alienage are close-knit; they consider themselves family much as a Dalish clan does. They mourn the death of one of their own as much as they rejoice in the cry of a new babe. Weddings are a cause for celebration. They don’t understand the life you Dalish lead any more than you understand the life they lead. But they haven’t forgotten how much they have lost. They may not know much of their heritage, but in the center of the Alienage a Vhenadahl tree grows strong.”

“It is hard for me to imagine, do they not wish for something better?” Lanaya was very curious. She did not remember anything about her family before the bandits, but assumed they probably came from an Alienage somewhere.

“Don’t we all wish for better, if not for us then at least for our children?” Starr countered. “For many elves, however, better does not mean Dalish. Before I left her clan, Keeper Aranella was considering talking to the Hahren of the Highever Alienage about an exchange of some sort. One or two of the People would stay in Highever for a period of time, while an equal number from the city would stay with her clan. She thought both sides would benefit from the knowledge and experience.”

“Keeper Aranella was always a liberal thinker. That sounds very much like something she would do. But I have detained you enough with my questions, perhaps after you complete your task we can talk some more.”

“Lanaya, before we go I have something.” Starr brought one of the journals and gave it to Lanaya. “When I left the clan I began to keep a journal, a journal of anything I saw or heard that might be elven or related to the history of the elven people. I have a copy for Aranella, but I also kept a copy to give to another clan if I came across one in my travels. Keeper Zathrian has much on his mind and I don’t want to disturb him any further. It’s not much, just a small way to repay the kindness Keeper Aranella showed to my son and me.”

“That you made the effort is no small thing. Ma serannas, falon[3],” Lanaya’s smile was warm as she accepted the journal.

“Nicely done,” Alistair whispered in her ear. “Have I told you today how much I love you?” He linked her fingers with his as they moved away.

“Starrelena?” a disbelieving voice stopped them.

Starr turned around and a wide smile of joy spread across her face when she saw an elf with chestnut hair looking at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Garren!” she quickly moved towards him and clasped his hands in hers, Fen dancing at her side. Alistair and Zevran quickly joined her. “It is good to see you, lethallin.”[4]

“I am pleased to see you as well, da’lethallan.[5] And surprised. You are looking very well, as are you Fen,” he added acknowledging the wolf. Fen huffed in pleasure.

“You are the only person who has ever called me ‘little’ anything,” Starr laughed. She turned to Alistair and Zevran not noticing the hints of jealousy in their eyes, “Garren was one of the hunters who found me. He was very good to me, and offered to be my mentor. Soon I thought of him like a big brother. He taught both Marcail and me how to use a bow.”

Alistair stepped forward and offered his hand to the elf, “Then I owe you a debt I can never repay. My life would be infinitely poorer without her in it.”

“I owe you as well. Zevran Arainai at your service,” Zevran resolved to talk to Garren privately at some point. It was barely possible that he might have some knowledge that would help track down those who hurt his beloved cousin.

Garren looked curiously at the two men, taking their measure. Starr quickly made the introductions, “Lethallin, I would like you to meet my cousin, Zevran, and my husband, Alistair. I believe I told you about him.”

“Andaran atish’an[6] friends. I am pleased to meet those close to da’lethallan.” He examined the big human closely, liking what he saw. “Alistair? _The_ Alistair?” Garren looked at Starr with teasing affection, “The same Alistair you talked about constantly, the one who was taken to the Chantry? The one you got into trouble with? The one who . . .”

“Enough!” Starr was flushed with embarrassment, “Remind me, Garren, why do I like you?” she asked plaintively. Alistair was laughing now. So was Elissa nearby, the exchange reminded her of her brother Fergus and happier days in Highever. Starr decided to change the subject, “Why are you here, Garren? Did something happen to Keeper Aranella?” she asked in concern.

“No, no da’lethallan. Keeper Aranella and the rest of our clan are fine. I married a strong, beautiful woman of this clan. You probably met Mithra when you arrived. We had more hunters than Zathrian’s clan, so it made sense for me to come here,” Garren’s voice was filled with pride and happiness when he spoke of his bride.

“Creators’ blessings on your union, Garren. I am so very happy for you. Marcail will be disappointed he didn’t get to see you again. He’s in Redcliffe, safe with people I trust while I travel with the Grey Wardens. He’s grown so much since you saw him last. He has friends and he and Alistair bonded immediately. I have a journal I’m keeping for him, if you like, I can lend it to and you can write to him. I know he would love hearing from you.”

“Of course. Give it to me before you enter the forest and I’ll be done before you have to leave us. But right now I must go, we will talk again da’lethallan.” Garren melted away with an ease even Zevran admired.

“Good thing you have a friend here, Starr,” Elissa said. “If we have any questions later maybe we should ask him, or you should. But right now we’d better go talk to this Sarel fellow and see if he has any information which can help us.”

 

[1] “Peace, I am a friend of the People. We have traveled long and need to speak to your Keeper.” Or at least my best attempt at a little Dalish, my apologies if it is truly dreadful.

[2] “Blessings”

[3] Thank you, friend.

[4] Cousin, or clansman

[5] Little cousin

[6] Greetings


	55. Deeper Into the Forest

They didn’t get far into the forest before Starr stopped them. “I didn’t want to say anything until we got far enough out of camp not to be heard.”

“What is it, my love?” Alistair asked. “I thought you’d be happy to see the Dalish again. Your friend Garren seems like a good man and was thrilled to see you again. If he weren’t happily married I might even be jealous.”

“Alistair,” Elissa stopped him, “I was very impressed with the way you handled Sarel. You were quite kingly, although you probably hate the idea. But I think Starr has something else in mind, so stop talking already.”

Starr would never tell Alistair she thought he was absolutely adorable when he pouted, as he was doing now. She just wanted to jump him, cover his face with kisses and then suck on those lips. She gave herself a mental shake and answered, “It was wonderful seeing Garren again. I’m glad he’s happy. But it’s not all the Dalish, it’s Zathrian. He’s hiding something from us, and I think the rest of the clan. Something’s not right. I think he knows something about this curse and these werewolves.”

Elissa nodded her head, thinking about Starr’s words. “Father took me to the Landsmeet a couple of times. Now that you mention it he reminds me of some of the nobles when they wanted one thing on the surface but had a hidden agenda. Let’s be careful and keep our eyes and ears open. This forest is rather eerie, isn’t it?”

“That Sarel is correct. The veil is thin here,” Morrigan confirmed.

The forest was eerie but quiet until they met three werewolves and the middle one spoke, “I am Swiftrunner and these are my brothers. Leave this forest, you have been sent by the treacherous Dalish and we will not let you harm Witherfang.” Fen growled at him, surprising Swiftrunner. “A wolf travels with and defends you?”

“Fen and I are family.” Starr looked at Swiftrunner, “We were not aware you could speak. Why did you attack the Dalish?”

Swiftrunner growled, “You know nothing, do you? You are fools!” The situation deteriorated from that point on and they barely avoided an attack. They explored a bit deeper into the forest finding ironbark, a tree that attacked them, a transformed elf and an injured hunter. They carefully carried the hunter back to camp and then spoke to Zathrian. Zathrian refused to accept that the werewolves might be intelligent enough to speak, and basically shooed them back to their task.

They split up. The Wardens and Wynne took the ironbark to Master Varathorn and then went to speak to Deygan, the injured hunter, hoping to get more information about the attack. Starrelena and the others went to Sarel, except for Zevran who drifted away in search of Garren.

“Hahren Sarel,” Starr began, “we encountered a tree that attacked us. That was a sylvan, wasn’t it? A spirit trapped in a tree long ago growing twisted and bitter over the years?” Sarel answered that was essentially correct. “Are there many sylvans in this forest? Have you encountered any demons? Or other unusual creatures? Anything different from just a few months or years ago?”

Sarel looked at her with interest, this shem who’d lived with Garren’s clan, “Why do you ask? There are many sylvans and have been for many years, but no demons that I am aware of. But, as thin as the Veil is, I think I would be more surprised if there were none at all instead of none I have seen. I can’t say I noticed anything different, we weren’t here that long before we were attacked.”

“Something changed. The werewolves are not new, but this massive attack is. We met some in the forest, they were led by a werewolf named Swiftrunner; they challenged us, demanded we return here and not go deeper. They have some grudge against you and Zathrian, they are very angry. The werewolves are not just savage beasts,” Starr warned.

“I do not know what to tell you. I’ll think about what you said, maybe I will remember something,” Sarel frowned. After a few minutes he came out of his reverie, “Might I ask a question? You are shemlen yet you have lived with the Dalish and with the flat ears-”

“Do **not** call them that! They do not deserve that disrespect any more than either you or they deserve to be called ‘knife ear.’” Starr’s eyes were a blazing green with insult and anger. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you wouldn’t even be here if so many elves didn’t submit or converted or whatever when the Divine marched against the Dales? If more of them had continued fighting there might have been even more elven lives lost, more clans destroyed, fewer to remember any part of your heritage?” Starr stalked off. Fen looked reproachfully at Sarel before following her.

Sarel and the other elves sitting with them were stunned at her outburst, as were Leliana and Oghren. Morrigan was delighted, the day promised to be less tedious. She found the smugness of these Dalish totally unwarranted and annoying. Sten, as usual, kept his thoughts to himself. The only comment was from Shale, “Well, at least the day isn’t completely dull. When do we get to crush something into paste?”

Zevran found Garren on a hill overlooking the halla pen at one end of camp. From his viewpoint, he could see far past the boundaries of camp. Knowing how important the halla were to the Dalish, Zevran began by asking about their welfare. He wanted Garren to feel more comfortable with him before broaching the subject of finding Starr in the forest.

“The werewolves didn’t pay much attention to the halla, so very few suffered any injuries. I didn’t know Starrelena had any cousins, she never mentioned any,” Garren was taking Zevran’s measure. He saw a strong man, a dangerous man, but Starrelena cared for him so Garren would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Our connection was only discovered after she began traveling with the Wardens. My mother’s story matched the story of her grandmother’s first daughter. In her grandmother’s journal was a drawing of her first husband, another Dalish, and almost as handsome as myself. The likeness was too close to be mere chance, so here I am,” Zevran gestured gracefully. “Tell me about finding my courageous cousin.” When Garren hesitated, “I have seen the words carved into her back. I know some of the tortures she endured.” He spoke quietly, but menace was in every syllable.

“Do you plan to kill them?” Garren asked.

“Yes.”

Garren searched Zevran’s eyes and saw the truth in that statement. His own eyes hardened. He nodded, “Good. It is not a day I like to talk about, the horror of what we found . . . what good can come of speaking of it?”

“Perhaps nothing, but until I hear of it from your perspective I won’t know.” Zevran waited patiently, implacably for Garren to continue.

Starr’s old friend gathered his thoughts and looked back on that day, “I think she must have been blessed by the Creators or we would not have found where she lay dying. Our clan would not usually have been in that area at that time, nor was it our custom to hunt in that direction. Our scouts sent word there were shems in the forest and we were sent to investigate and scare them off if needed. If we were fortunate we might also find good hunting, the clan could use fresh meat. The air was close and surprisingly hot, for the nights were still cold, the very leaves seemed heavy with sorrow. We followed their tracks long enough to determine whoever they were they were well on their way back to the Denerim. We then followed their trail in the other direction. There was a rise with signs of three grown men and somebody else. There was blood and some indications of a possible struggle but the ground wasn’t torn up enough for that.”

_He followed the trail of blood to the edge of the rise. There was a break in the growth and he carefully stepped towards it and realized there was a steep drop. Looking down he could see where something, or someone, had broken the undergrowth. Broken boughs, bent grass, torn vines were obvious but he could not see what lay at the bottom. Their leader indicated they would go down by a different path and pick up the trail._

_They were very careful, very cautious. The spiders in this part of the forest were particularly dangerous. They came across signs of a vicious battle between spiders and wolves, and it appeared the wolves won. And they were close to where whatever, or whoever, had come down from the top of the rise. It looked like something had crawled away. They started to track. They were startled when a large female wolf stood in their path, looking at them, judging them. One of their younger hunters whispered the name of the Dread Wolf and was quickly shushed. The wolf ran and then looked to see if they were going to follow. At that, a chill crawled up his spine that had nothing to do with a change of weather. They followed her lead._

_He stood transfixed by the scene in front of them. A pack of wolves was standing guard. In the middle was what at first seemed like a pile of fur. At a signal from the female wolf, the pile moved and young wolves carefully moved away until there were only two creatures. One was another young wolf, practically a cub, with a recently damaged leg and the other was a shemlen female. The wolves had kept her warm and safe during the night, but she was in bad shape. At first, they thought she was a woman but soon realized she was still a child on her way to becoming a woman. She hadn’t a stitch of clothing and ‘twas obvious she’d been badly abused. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, enough to break his heart. The worst was her eyes. They were a dull, lifeless brown yet agony seemed to shriek out of them. Those tortured eyes called out to him. “We need to get her to the Keeper,” he whispered. He didn’t know why he whispered; maybe he thought the very sounds in the air would hurt her, bruised as she was._

_“She’s a shem! We can’t bring her to our camp,” one of the others protested. “Besides, she’s so close to death killing her would be a mercy.”_

_He swore the young wolf understood the other’s words for he growled at the hunter. “Can you kill a child so easily? She must be strong to have survived this long,” he protested. “And the wolves, have you ever known wolves to protect one not of their kind? We must take her to Keeper Aranella for healing.” Their leader agreed, and then the debate became about how to get her back, she was so badly injured they were afraid to touch her. Finally, they made a kind of stretcher with vines and poles._

“Fen stayed on the stretcher with her. The female wolf, obviously an alpha, looked at the child and Starr looked back. It was like they were signaling to each other. I saw Starr nod and hold on to Fen, then the pack left. She never made a sound. Any tears that fell were licked away by Fen. Needless to say we, drew a crowd on our return. Keeper Aranella said we made the right decision and wanted to heal Starr immediately. Starrelena can be stubborn.” Zevran smiled at this, he knew it was true. “She pushed Fen forward and made Keeper Aranella heal Fen first. I think that was the deal she made with the wolf, taking care of Fen. Keeper Aranella is a good leader and a good woman, but only an adequate healer. She and the First were busy for hours, finally all three of them needed to sleep for they were too tired to continue. Through it all, Starr never made a sound. Two days later one of the women was going to help her clean her hair. We didn’t see the cuts on her back until then. The woman came back running, tears running down her face and yelling for Keeper. The cuts had started to heal, and skin was growing over her hair. We had to cut the skin again and hold her hair to the side for healing and poultices.”

“Braska,” muttered Zevran, thinking of the agony his Starr had endured.

“The first time I heard her voice was after her son was born. She was holding him and smiling down at him then she looked at us and her eyes were the blue of a perfect summer sky, ‘His name is Marcail.’ She looked back down at her son and whispered, ‘Your father would be so happy to see you.’ I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as the two of them in that moment. It was only then I realized the father was not one of her attackers. I wish there was something I could tell you about them, but there’s nothing. We only know they went back to the Denerim.” He debated a moment, and then asked the question that had been on his mind since seeing Starr again, “Is he, Alistair, a good man?”

Zevran didn’t hesitate, “He is a very good man, and he loves her and Marcail very much. He has done much to heal her spirit.” Garren was satisfied with that answer.

The two men sat there looking over camp and the surrounding area. They saw the Wardens and Wynne finish talking to Deygan and move in the direction of Sarel and the rest of the companions. They also saw Starr get up and stalk off angrily, followed by Fen and Alistair. They looked at each other and silently decided to find out what happened. As soon as Morrigan said the words ‘flat ears’ Garren knew. One of the hunters said she had never seen anybody’s eyes turn to green fire before. Garren looked at Sarel, “You’re lucky. One of my former clansmen used those words years ago when she was still a child and she turned around and punched him, knocking him down flat. I see she’s learned some restraint since then.”

Oghren chuckled and belched, “Heh heh, the more I hear the more dwarvalicious that sexy silver siren becomes. There’s not a dwarf alive who doesn’t like a good brawl now and again.”

“The drunken dwarf talks a good deal about the second Warden’s wife. Does it think it wise to be so obvious in its infatuation?” Shale intoned.

“Infatuation? What kind of fancy word is that? There’s nothing wrong with admiring a good set of curves without some walking statue getting all girly about it. Oh, wait, you are a girl. You jealous ‘cuz old Oghren doesn’t talk about your curves and the fact yer naked under those rocks? *burp*” Oghren took a swig of his brew and leered at Shale.

“I am going to go stand over there and try to resist the temptation to crush its empty head,” Shale huffed away, if a golem can huff.

Alistair found Starr at the halla pen, just looking at the graceful creatures, anger in every line of her body. Bravely he went to her and put his hands on the rail on either side of her, surrounding her. He rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in the scent of her. “They are beautiful creatures,” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear. “Why are you so angry? Want me to beat somebody up for you?”

Starr turned around quickly, “Are you saying I can’t beat them up for myself?” She scowled at him.

“Oh, I know you can.” He shifted his body slightly, “You are so beautiful when angry.” He pouted when she glared at him. “What?”

Those lips again, Starr didn’t resist this time. She was already hot with anger, now that heat was changing direction. She kissed him and pulled that bottom lip into her mouth, sucking and nibbling. He wrapped his arms around her, cupping and squeezing her rear, pulling her closer and up against his armor. She shivered at the friction of the cold, rough metal in contrast with the warm lips and hot hands. Alistair took control of the kiss, his tongue doing the mating dance with hers. When he opened his eyes, he smiled somewhat painfully, “We have an audience.”

Starr squeaked until she saw a number of halla near the fence watching them. She gave a shaky laugh and pulled back.

Alistair smiled to himself. He was not a stupid man, no matter what Morrigan thought. He knew Starr had a weakness for his pout but would never admit it to her. When a man was married to a strong, intelligent and beautiful woman, he needed some sort of edge. Once she relaxed, he held out his arm, “A walk along the water’s edge, my love?” He was determined to find out what was wrong. She took his arm and they walked away from the halla and the path leading up to the Dalish camp. “Why were you so angry?” he repeated his earlier question.

“Sarel started to ask me a question, but he used the term ‘flat ears’ to describe the city elves. The Dalish use that the same way some humans use the phrase ‘knife ears’ and I hate it. It’s not right.”

“No it isn’t, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? You still feel guilty that Vionna is dead, and they are attacking her when they use that phrase,” Alistair answered his own question. He rubbed her back in comforting circles.

Starr looked at him in surprise, “I never thought of that, you might be right. There’s a good mind behind that pretty face.”

“You think I’m _pretty_?” he asked, then batted his eyelashes at her.

Laughing, she changed her mind, “How about handsome, rugged, beautiful in a totally masculine way, the epitome of male perfection?” She kissed him lightly and laid her head on his shoulder. He held her, one of the benefits of marriage as far as he was concerned. Starr felt at peace, standing there with Alistair’s arms around her. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. Softly she murmured, “emma lath, emma vhenan, emma sa’lath.”

“That’s beautiful, what does it mean,” he asked quietly.

“It’s the only line I remember from a Dalish wedding or betrothal song. Hearing that Garren was married to Mithra reminded me. It means ‘my love, my heart, my one love,’ I always thought it a beautiful sentiment. Until I met you again I didn’t think I would ever have reason to say it.”

Alistair tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. Touching his forehead to hers he repeated, “Emma lath, emma vhenan, emma sa’lath.” Then he kissed her ever so softly. They gave themselves one more minute, then, holding hands, made their way back.

Before they could reach Sarel, they were intercepted. “I think we’ve learned everything we can here, so we’re heading back to the forest,” Elissa told them. Starr decided she didn’t mind waiting to apologize to Sarel for her outburst.


	56. Lady of the Forest

_“I knew Zathrian was hiding something, but I didn’t realize he was betraying his entire clan,”_ was Starr’s first thought when they met the Lady of the Forest and heard what she had to say. It was a lot of trouble to get here, to this section of the abandoned ruin. The forest itself blocked the way until they did a favor for the talking oak. Starr figured that must surely make it the most unusual favor Elissa and Alistair had had to do in order to build their army.  Fighting a dragon, ghosts and the undead to get here seemed almost boring in comparison. Starr had some sympathy for Zathrian’s pain; after all, she’d lived through the same thing that happened to his children. She understood his need for revenge; if she knew who they were, she’d gladly kill the bastards who hurt her. And if somebody hurt Marcail, she’d hunt them through the Fade and back. _“But those people are long dead. These werewolves had no part in the abductions and deaths of his children; they are innocent of those crimes. He let his own people die or succumb to this damnable curse because he can’t, or won’t, see past his own pain and pride. As soon as they were infected he could have done something.”_

The Lady glided to Starr and looked into her eyes. “I know of you, stranger, you and this wolf,” the Lady glanced down at Fen who returned her gaze. “You are the silver child saved by wolves years ago. The tale of how you were rescued by this one’s pack and kept safe until Dalish hunters arrived has been whispered among the trees for many seasons. Perhaps it is no accident that one who suffered as Zathrian’s daughter suffered should be here now. Perhaps you will be the key to unlock his cage of bitterness and hate. There is a light inside you that is rarely seen in this world. It illuminates you and those around you.”

Starr flushed in embarrassment. “I don’t know what you mean, Lady, I’m just a person, nobody special. But thank you. I will try to make Zathrian change his mind.”

“ _I_ think you’re special,” Alistair said as they headed off to find Zathrian.

Oghren belched next to her, “So, you’re a sodding legend among the trees. Does this mean you’re gonna, what’s it, put on airs?”

Starr looked down at him and raised an eyebrow, “How can I when I have you to ‘keep me grounded?’”

“Good one,” chuckled the dwarf before pinching her bottom, “I’ll do what I can.” He sidled off to her protests while Alistair followed him angrily.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Elissa shook her head. “Oghren will make it his personal mission to ‘keep you grounded’ as often as possible just to annoy Alistair, if for no other reason. He seems to like teasing Alistair, disguising it as ‘marital advice.’” Starr groaned at the very thought. Elissa opened the door previously locked and they stepped into the entrance hall of the ruin. “Oh, look, there’s Zathrian. I think he didn’t trust us to do his dirty work properly.”

Zathrian _wasn’t_ pleased they didn’t have Witherfang’s heart. And he didn’t like being questioned. “Zathrian,” Starr began, “as Keeper you are supposed to be acting in the best interests of your clan. I understand your pain very well; but it’s not right to hold your clan and other innocents hostage to your pain from a tragedy that occurred ages ago. Nobody who hurt your children is alive or has been for decades.”

“HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?” Zathrian thundered. “Am I supposed to _forget_ my pain, the torture of my children? What sort of person are you that you can dismiss your own rape and torture as nothing? Yet you say you understand. Was being whipped, beaten and carved just an inconvenience for you? Do all shem-”

He got no further because Alistair’s sword was at his throat and Zevran’s daggers at his back. Alistair had never been so angry in his life, his anger at Loghain was nothing compared to his fury at Zathrian attacking the woman he loved with the suffering of the child she had been. His nostrils flared and he wanted nothing more than to bury his sword in the bastard’s throat and tear him apart, “Not another word. Or I will kill you, slowly and painfully.” His nostrils flared and his breathing was harsh as he fought to control himself. Death was in his eyes when he looked at the old elf, “You despicable coward. Your clan might decide to avenge your death and then I would have to kill them all. Is that what you want? Think very carefully before you answer, old man. And something to consider, you may be a mage but I was trained as a templar and will drain you dry before you can even think of a spell.”

Zathrian didn’t really care if he died. His death meant the curse would never be lifted, but he still had enough pride as Keeper to not want his clan to die. He looked past the warrior at Starr and was ashamed. She was so pale she was nearly translucent and the expression on her face reminded him of his daughter. It was obvious that not all of her companions knew what happened to her before he said anything. His self-disgust filled his throat with bile. When he spoke, it was to her, “Let us go speak to the spirit.” He waited until Alistair reluctantly lowered his sword before slowly walking forward, Zevran remaining at his back. If he felt the prick of blades, he said nothing.

Zevran didn’t speak, but he kept the points of his blades in the old Keeper’s back. _“By the Maker, I am surprised the ground isn’t poisoned by this man’s hate. He will regret the pain he caused her.”_ He spared a glance to see how Starr was faring after the unwarranted attack and was filled once again with admiration. _“Already she has gained her composure and is walking tall and proud. Magnificent. Although I doubt she realizes how hard she is gripping Alistair’s hand.”_ He turned his attention back to Zathrian.

Zathrian, shamed by Starr and the Lady of the Forest, ended the curse even though it meant his death. Starr had the odd thought that he actually seemed to welcome death at that point, as if he finally realized he would be free of a terrible burden. Perhaps he was. The werewolves were sad at the loss of their Lady but delighted to be free to enter the world of men once more. None of the companions expressed any sadness at Zathrian’s death. Slowly they made their way back to the Dalish camp.

“Are you alright, bellissima? He had no right to attack you that way. Alistair was quite striking and dangerous looking when he leapt to your defense, was he not?” Zevran brought her hand to his lips.

Starr smiled at her cousin’s concern, “I’m fine Zevran, it shook me for a moment. It’s not the first and won’t be the last time that the memories kick me in the face, though probably the only time somebody yells about it. It’s embarrassing to have your personal, most private memories thrown out for everybody to see. That hurt.”

“Then I am glad he is dead, my comely cousin,” Zevran replied quietly.

“I hate to admit it but so am I, Zev, so am I. He may have been a good man once but he let that good man die with his children.”

Their mood was somber as they made their way through the forest back to camp. None of them regretted Zathrian’s death, but neither did they look forward to breaking the news to First-now-Keeper Lanaya. Fortunately, Lanaya sensed his death and was already coming to terms with what it would mean for her and the clan. She formally offered the support of the Dalish according to the terms of the treaty. She also asked them to come back the next day for she wanted that night just for the clan. Elissa agreed.

They set up camp not far from the Dalish. The evening was nice and there was nothing left to do so Starr and Alistair were sitting together under a large tree behind their tent, the forest providing a private bower for them. His fingers combed through her hair absent-mindedly. “Are you alright, my love? You’ve been quiet all evening, are you still upset because of Zathrian?” Alistair asked with concern.

“No, well maybe but not the way you mean.” She snuggled closer to him as if to stave off remembered cold, “I was just thinking about his children, especially his daughter. I was thinking about how she chose death rather than life, the despair she must have felt to kill herself. It’s so sad.”

“Did you ever think of . . . doing that,” Alistair asked even as the thought scared him half to death.

Starr didn’t answer for a long time. “I love you, Stair, so much. If the price of being with you here and now was everything that happened to me then, I’d gladly pay it twice.” Alistair felt the lump rise in his throat then Starr continued, “I won’t say there weren’t times I thought about it, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe it would have been different if one of them were the father instead . . . I don’t know. In the early weeks I was with the Dalish, I felt so alone and I was always in pain. I couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. There were so many injuries to heal and poultices could only do so much. Keeper Aranella did what she could but . . . well, sometimes I just hurt beyond thinking . . . it was hard. I struggled to get up in the morning. Thoughts of my family, you, even Vionna helped. Until I felt him move. The first time my baby moved I was filled with wonder . . . I could separate him from what happened. I think that’s when I really started to heal instead of just trying to survive.”

Alistair kissed her head where it lay on his shoulder. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know. You inspire me to be better just by being.” He closed his eyes, “I never wanted to be a templar. I thought of escaping, but to what? The Chantry keeps a close eye on its recruits before they take their vows. I thought, or maybe just convinced myself, that you were long out of my life. It hurt too much to think of what I had with your family and I didn’t see any hope of getting that back. And I did mostly enjoy the education and training. If I ran away, I would never put you at risk, without you I didn’t have any hope or anything to run to. At least that’s how I thought for a long time. I’m ashamed to admit that. That I was so weak. But, after the one Harrowing I saw, I couldn’t see any future for me with the templars and began to think of what I could do. I had skills, but no contacts. I was serious about not wanting to put you at risk; the templars would have come after me. No way was I going to put you in their path. Not after everything you and your family did for me. I even thought of leaving Ferelden, maybe I could be a city guard somewhere. I’m strong and smart, maybe a farmer or a smith would give me a chance. Then Duncan came and my life changed again. I had a purpose I could respect and a place where all my training meant something. It was a chance to carve out something for myself for a change. But when I saw you again . . . you give my life meaning and hope, joy and a desire for more.”

“Oh Stair,” Starr was moved near to tears by his confession. “You’ve always been strong; you’ve been my hero since I was three years old. You just weren’t strong for yourself, that’s what changed. You healed me when I didn’t realize I was still broken. Emma lath, emma vhenan.”

“Emma sa’lath,” Alistair whispered and stroked her face. They leaned closer to each other until their lips just barely touched. Love, tenderness and healing turned into the passion that was never far from the surface. With one arm, he held her to him, embracing her. With his other hand, he traced the lines of her face, her neck and shoulder. Through her shirt, he cupped her breast, holding it reverently before kneading it and playing with her nipple. Her hands were busy also, massaging the muscles of his chest and abdomen, teasing the bottom of his shirt from where it was tucked in the waist of his britches so she could run her hands against his skin. He loosened the fastenings of her shirt so he could pull her breast free and feast his eyes on the glory before he bent his head down to take it into his mouth. As he suckled and licked, he moved his hand down to undo her britches and slide his hand to her femininity. She was already damp and warm. She moaned and arched against him.

In a quick move, she straddled him and threw off her shirt, leaving her naked from the waist up. She ground herself against the manhood straining to be let out as he devoured her breasts, the cool air of the forest breeze teasing her heated skin. She tore her breast from his mouth and took possession with her lips. Her tongue boldly stroked his as he eased her britches down so he could squeeze and fondle her rear. His fingers brushed tantalizingly close to her entrances causing her to whimper. He gasped when she bit his lips and started kissing his neck and shoulders through the fabric of his shirt. She teased his nipples with her teeth and continued down. She nipped at his member through the fabric even as her hands were busy undoing his britches. He lifted his hips so she could pull them down and dig her fingers into his cheeks before swallowing him whole. “Maker,” he breathed and fisted his hands in her hair, holding her to him as she worked him, sucking and bobbing and licking and teething.

He thought he would die when she stopped and stood. She had to brace one arm against the tree at his back to support herself. He looked up; the waning sun filtered through the leaves dappled her skin and hair. Her face was in shadow from which her eyes gleamed brightly down at him. He brought her to him and worked her love nub as she had worked him, his hands desperately removing her britches. As soon as she was completely naked, his hands made their way back to her rear so he could hold her close, his tongue sliding past the nub to her opening. When his tongue entered her, she bit back a cry as her body responded. He eagerly lapped up the liquid escaping from her as if it were an intoxicating wine. When he was done, he eased her trembling body down, nipping at her skin as he did so, his strong arms keeping her from collapsing against him. He poised her over his member, the tip teasing at the entrance before he brought her down to encase him. He held her still while his manhood swelled further in pleasure. As soon as he let her move against him, his mouth swooped to her breasts and he once again feasted. When they were close to release, their lips found each other and they swallowed each other’s cries.

“It’s not fair,” she mumbled against his neck while he held her. She was limp against him, still straddling him as the aftershocks reverberated between them. He breathed in the scent of her while he stroked her in long leisurely movements from her neck to her bottom.

“What’s not fair, love?” his voice was low and husky; his lips tenderly kissing her hair and ears.

“You have too many clothes on and I have none,” she nuzzled the tender skin of his neck near the shoulder. When she licked his skin, he reacted.

Gently he tumbled her onto the blanket face down. Quickly he removed his clothing and lay propped on his side, one of his legs over hers, anchoring her. He moved her hair aside so he could examine her tattoo. He traced the outlines of the rose and falcon with his finger, “This is the first time I’ve had enough light to really see it. Zevran does good work. It’s beautiful,” he retraced the outlines with the tip of his tongue causing her breath to hitch. He was already swelling against her. She shivered when he began kissing the individual petals from the rose and the ones loosely floating down her back into a shallow pile at the base of her spine. He moved so he was kneeling behind her. He lifted her hips, encouraging her to get on her hands and knees, and slowly he reentered her, the angle quickly reigniting their passion. When he collapsed against her, he braced his arms to protect her from his full weight. He got his breath back, shifted to his side, and brought her against him, spooning her. They lay together in the night air; enjoying the breeze and the starlight until eventually, they slipped back into their tent to avoid the night insects.


	57. A Day with the Dalish

It was morning. Starr decided to make some of her honey-chocolate rounds with the last of her chocolate. She was sure that they wouldn’t have much time in Redcliffe before Eamon called the Landsmeet and they’d have to go to Denerim so she wouldn’t be needed to cook much longer. Since they weren’t leaving until the following day, nobody felt the need to get up early. Starr was the only one. She rather enjoyed the unusual quiet of camp, nothing to interfere with the sounds of the forest. Even Oghren’s snoring seemed in harmony with the frogs by the stream. She remembered noticing fish in that stream, maybe it was time for Alistair to get up and go fishing. She went back into the tent and was immediately grabbed and rolled to the ground, “I thought I was going to have to drag you back in here,” he growled before ravaging her mouth. With one hand, he yanked her britches to her ankles and pressed down on her mound.

At the sharp stab of desire, she gasped, “Stair,” and anything else was swallowed. Alistair shoved her shirt over and behind her head, tangling her arms. She was already hot and wet. His mouth ravaged her breasts while his fingers delved deep. “Maker and Creators, Stair, please,” she begged and felt her eyes literally roll back in her head when he plunged inside her, his hands firm on her ass. The fact that her own clothes kept her from wrapping herself around him made her helpless before the pleasure he engendered. Alistair ruthlessly pushed them both to the peak. When he bit her lip, she started to cry out and they both fell into the abyss. He threaded his fingers through hers as they lay there gasping. He was lying on top of her, gently nuzzling her neck when she finally spoke breathlessly, “I only came in to ask if you were willing to go fishing.”

Alistair propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding? Fishing?” And then he roared with laughter, his whole body shaking. For a moment, the vibrations promised to take her back up, but the absurdity of the situation started her giggling instead. The giggling turned to outright laughter and he rolled off her. He sat up, “I could probably go fishing, love,” he said between chuckles as he helped her straighten out her clothes before getting his own. “I missed you when I woke up; the bedroll was still warm with your scent. I was thinking of ways to entice you back in when you came on your own. Didn’t think you had fishing on your mind, though.” He was smirking as he gathered what he needed. Starr left their tent, but not without pinching his rear first. “You are a wicked woman,” he complained good-naturedly and followed her out.

Oghren was waiting for them. He waited until Starr started some coffee then leered at the pair of them, “I’ve heard of rolling your oats, polishing the footstones, tapping the midnight still and forging the moaning statue but I never heard it called fishing before. So, you dwarvalicious hunk of womanhood, wanna go ‘fishing’ with me?” He waggled his eyebrows at the embarrassed and slightly stunned expressions on the couple’s faces as they wondered just how much he heard. Oghren took a pull from his flask and turned to Alistair in manly camaraderie, “Gotta hand it to ya boy, wasn’t sure you had it in you to handle your woman, you nug-licking pike-twirler. Good on ya.”

“Th-thanks?” Alistair squeaked and then at the glare he received from his wife decided the best option at that moment was to retreat. He garbled at Starr, “Stream . . . fishing.” And was off. Starr decided to ignore Oghren and went about her business, and tried not to flush any more than she already had. It was difficult, though. Oghren was used to being ignored, so he was quite content to sit, drink, and ogle while she worked. Starr was about to break down and ask Oghren to see how many fish Alistair had caught when she heard Fen greeting someone. Garren, Mithra and Keeper Lanaya were entering their camp. Zevran was coming out of his tent and moved to intercept them before they could approach her. She noted with some interest that the two men stayed behind while Mithra and the Keeper continued in her direction.

Starr stood as they approached, “Andaran atish’an, Keeper, Mithra. Please join me for a cup of coffee or tea. We are a little relaxed this morning, opportunities such as this have been rare the past few months so most are taking advantage of the opportunity to rest more before we continue on. I’d enjoy the company if you have the time.” She gestured for them to sit and waited for Lanaya to explain why they were here.

Lanaya gracefully sat down and accepted a cup of tea while Mithra opted to pour herself a cup of coffee, “I do not wish to intrude, falon. Garren and Mithra were coming to see you and I joined them. I was hoping you’d have a little time to indulge my curiosity. Unfortunately, my duties will not allow me any time later today and even now, I cannot stay long. Hahren Sarel is looking forward to interrogating you about your experiences later.” At the mention of Sarel Starr looked uncomfortable. Lanaya continued as if she didn’t notice, “I believe he also wishes to apologize for upsetting you and insulting those who live in the city. He seemed to have forgotten that I was probably one of them. Sarel hopes you won’t avoid him later when you join us.”

Lanaya was still there when Alistair came back with a pot full of cleaned fish, more than enough for breakfast with three guests. He was also dripping wet. Lanaya and Mithra looked at each other, the man seemed unaware that the wet clothes outlined how well developed his muscles and other ‘attributes’ were. Starr had her eyes on the fire and didn’t realize he was soaking until he came up behind her and squeezed her in a bear hug. “Stair,” she squealed, “you’re making me wet!”

He chuckled in her ear before nipping the lobe and letting her go, whispering, “That’s the idea.” A light blush stained her cheeks even as, in a voice loud enough for the others to hear, “Oghren pushed me. Mr. Cleanliness-is-not-a-virtue decided I needed a bath.” His eyes lit greedily on the food, “Ooh, you made some of those round thingies. Keeper, I hope you and Mithra enjoy them; Starr is an artist with food. If you’ll excuse me, I need to change into something drier and more comfortable.”

Lanaya waited until he was inside the tent then remarked casually, “Alistair is certainly a ‘healthy’ man.” Mithra snickered in agreement while Starr looked at her in surprise. When she realized exactly what the Keeper meant she reddened even more before snorting in amusement. Soon the three of them were laughing and inside the tent, Alistair was blushing furiously. He heard what she said and, looking down at himself, realized why they were giggling. Shaking his head at the minds of women, even if a part of him was flattered, he finished changing into dry clothes and resolved to wait in the tent until some other males joined them.

Fortunately, Alistair did not have long to wait. Zevran and Garren had finished their little chat and were on their way to Starr. Garren was looking disturbed, but when they reached the laughing women Zevran stopped him, “Ah, my friend, is there a more glorious sight than a bevy of beautiful, laughing women on a sunny day. Good morning to you oh comely cousin, lovely Lanaya, magnificent Mithra.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “I see bellissima has decided to treat us all to some of her special goodies. Marvelous.” He grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down seductively next to Lanaya, who only smiled at his exaggerated antics.

“Good morning, Zev. Aneth ara[1], lethallin. Your timing couldn’t be better, these should be ready to eat now,” Starr passed around a plate of the honey-chocolate treats. “I hope you’re staying for breakfast.” Deftly she began baking the biscuits and breading and frying the fish. The scents soon filled camp and everybody else made their way to the cooking fires and it began to seem like a party. Even Shale joined them. When Lanaya left, she promised Elissa she would talk to her later about merging their forces. People drifted off to do as they would, leaving Elissa and Zevran with the two Dalish and Starr and Alistair.

The Wardens were getting more food and Garren took the opportunity to have a quiet word with Starr. “Emm’abelas[2], da’lethallan. Zevran told me what Zathrian did and what he said to you. He asked me about you, of course, I told him we found you hurt and alone in the forest and we couldn’t leave you alone so you stayed with us. No more. It’s your private business; I would never hurt you like that. I didn’t even tell Mithra. But if something I said . . .”

Starr stopped him, “Garren, I believe you. I don’t need an apology lethallin. It’s possible he heard something from one of us, or bits and pieces that he put together with what you told him. He could have inferred enough to make an educated guess. You were always close-mouthed; I could never get you to tell me anything you didn’t want to tell me no matter how much I pestered you.”

Garren smiled at the memory, relieved she wasn’t angry at him, “And you got to be pretty good at pestering.”

“Maybe the trees told him, that’s how the spirit knew of you,” Alistair said upon returning to her side. “I seem to remember your Nana-lin telling us one time some Keepers had the ability to understand the language of the forest. Maybe she meant more than super tracking skills, or whatever.” While they pondered the possibility, he changed the subject. “That was a great breakfast, my love, there’s even some fish left. Not even I can eat another bite.” He patted his belly then addressed Mithra and Garren, “How are your hunters faring? I noticed some of them starting to recover yesterday.”

Mithra answered, “Happily, they are all doing well and should be fully recovered in a few days. Starrelena, Elora says all the halla are doing well now and thanks you for your assistance.” Garren and Mithra stayed longer than planned. Mithra found herself enjoying the company of these two shems more than she would have believed. Alistair couldn’t help thinking that here, in the forest with the Dalish, he was having one of the most normal, even neighborly experiences he’d ever had. They were just people talking and getting to know each other.

When they left, Starr yawned. “Tired love?” Alistair asked with some concern. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb caressing the line of her cheek. She nodded and yawned again. “Well, you were up early. I’ll take care of all this, why don’t you take a nap? We’re not leaving until later, so you have time. Fen and I will make sure nobody bothers you.” Starr smiled gratefully and kissed him before climbing back into the tent. She immediately took off her clothes and was asleep almost before she was down.

Alistair looked after her in concern. He startled when Leliana came up, “Are there any more of those honey-chocolate rounds, Alistair?” Her eyes widened, “Is anything wrong? Where is your lovely Starr?”

He looked around, “Oh, Leliana, umm, yeah, there are more over there. I’m sorry, what? Uh, Starr’s just taking a nap; she was up early this morning.”

“Alistair, I’m sure you have no reason to worry. She must be tired; this has to have been emotionally exhausting for her. Coming to the Dalish had to have brought up a lot of memories, which she would probably prefer to avoid. Then finding an old friend and being attacked like that by Zathrian. It can’t have been easy for her.”

He looked relieved, “You’re probably right. She was nervous even before we got here. I think it shook her to realize the trees were talking about what happened years ago. Who would have thought trees gossiped?” He relaxed and finished cleaning up. He found the journal Garren brought back for Marcail and quietly went inside to put it away. He was glad to see her sleeping peacefully and resisted the temptation to join her. _“Maker, she’s beautiful. I am a lucky, lucky man. I hope Leliana’s right and she’s just tired.”_ He left her to go back outside.

Starr woke up a short time later and stretched lazily before getting dressed. Alistair was just outside the tent polishing their weapons and armor. He got up when he saw her, put his hands on the sides of her face and looked at her searchingly. He let out a relieved sigh, “Good, you look rested. I was worried you might be getting sick or something.”

She leaned against him for a moment. It felt nice to be so cared for, “I was just a bit tired.” Her stomach rumbled, “Is there any food left?”

“You’re stealing my line,” Alistair said drily. “But yes, there’s some fish and biscuits, even some fruit left. None of your thingies, though.” Alistair joined her and while they ate, he updated her, “Soon we’ll all go over to the Dalish camp as planned. Tomorrow, however, we will **not** be going to Redcliffe. A fellow by the name of Levi Dryden has been searching for us, the Wardens, about retaking Soldier’s Peak. Apparently, it used to be a Grey Warden fortress in the days before the Wardens were kicked out of Ferelden and has been abandoned ever since. It’s also supposed to be dangerous. Levi can get us there but he’s a merchant, not a fighter. We’re hoping we can find some useful information, after all, we know Wardens are needed to defeat the Archdemon but maybe there’s more to it than that. Why does it have to be a Grey Warden to kill the beast once it’s found? Even learning weaknesses we can exploit would be good, since there are only two of us.”

Starr munched thoughtfully on her biscuit. “It would also be nice to have a base to return to. Maybe there are records on the Joining; do you think there might be records indicating what sorts of recruits are more likely to survive? And don’t look at me like that. I’m not stupid. There were three recruits and only one new Warden. Maybe maps of old entrances to the Deep Roads.”

He sighed, “It would be nice if we could up our survival rate with the Joining. And Soldier’s Peak sounds like it is out of the way and not easy to get to, which can have disadvantages as well as advantages. I’d like to eventually have two significant bases and a small compound in Denerim. I don’t think that should be in the Palace, though.” Alistair shook his head, “but those are thoughts for the future. We have to survive the Blight, first. And right now we should be going.” Alistair stood and pulled her up and into his arms.

“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick. Don’t you two ever do anything else?” Morrigan complained. “Alistair, Elissa wants to see you before we go to the Dalish.” Morrigan waited until the templar left and then turned to Starr, “I still don’t understand what you see in him, but he is less objectionable than he used to be.” She sniffed and before she walked away added, “Surely you know Zathrian attacked you because you had the courage his daughter did not.” Starr watched her leave as she contemplated the witch’s words. She wasn’t sure Morrigan was correct, but she appreciated the thought. She knew better than to say anything to the other woman, though. Morrigan was proud of her prickly reputation.

While the Wardens discussed the Blight and the role the Dalish would play, Starr approached Sarel. She was surprised that he actually seemed to welcome her and motioned her to join him and put them in a position where they could talk semi-privately. “Hahren Sarel,” she began after sitting down, “I apologize for losing my temper the way I did. I may not have liked what you said but I could have responded better and not as a child throwing a tantrum.”

Sarel looked at her for a long moment. “No, I was in the wrong when I used that phrase, as Keeper Lanaya reminded me,” he said somewhat ruefully. Then he added slyly, “Your friend Garren informed me that you were much more restrained in your response than he has known you to be. For that I thank you.” He watched as the puzzled expression on her face turned to one of remembered embarrassment. “I think we can move past that, do you?”

“I’d like that.” Then she smiled. Soon they were debating relations between humans and elves. Others joined them and the lively discussion ran from one topic to another. Many had general questions about life in a city and the younger elves had questions about their recent adventures.

“Is it true you’ve been to Orzammar where the Durgen’len live? I can’t imagine living under a mountain,” somebody asked. The others agreed and pressed Starr for details.

Oghren, who had been trying to find out where and if they made any ale, came along and plopped down in the circle. He didn’t seem to notice that those closest to him edged away slightly. “Talking about Orzammar, eh? I could tell you tales about my old home, sure, stuff that Dwarvalicious here couldn’t begin to know. Not many outsiders are allowed inside, you know. You ever hear of nugs?” Starr was quite content to let Oghren talk about Orzammar. She only interjected to add her impressions as an outsider seeing it for the first time. When she felt a tugging on her boot she looked down to see a pre-toddler pulling himself upright. He was looking up at her, they stared at each other a minute then she hoisted him up and set him in her lap where he promptly made himself comfortable. He gazed owlishly around the circle and then fell asleep with his head snuggled between her breasts and one hand holding on to her neckline.

Alistair, after they were done talking to Lanaya, wandered over to Master Varathorn. He wanted to get something for Marcail and hoped the crafts master would have something appropriate for an eight-year-old boy. Master Varathorn agreed to put some things aside for Starr to look at so they could make the decision together. He was definitely purchasing the halla statue, though. He made his way to the fire where most of the Dalish and his companions were but had to stop at the sight of Starr with the sleeping babe. He felt his heart squeeze painfully.

Zevran had been patrolling the perimeter with some of the Dalish hunters. He saw Alistair just standing and looking towards the fire and joined him. When he got closer, he saw the poignant expression on the other man and looked in the same direction but didn’t see what could cause it. “The best seat in the house wasted on a sleeping child, what a shame,” he said flippantly.

“I can’t do that, you know,” Alistair said quietly. “She’d be a great mother, well, she already is but you know what I mean. And I used to dream of being a father, having a small family. It hurts to know that. We talked about it before we got married, but seeing her like that . . . well.”

“Do not Grey Wardens have children? I seem to recall some of the Wardens in Antiva had families.” Zevran added firmly, “And Starr is very happy with you, Alistair, do not forget that.”

Alistair smiled slightly, albeit wistfully, “I know. Seeing her like that, I just had an image of her swelling with my child and even though I have accepted that it won’t happen, it can still hurt to be reminded. Even if it were advisable with the taint, it’s not very likely. The only Wardens I knew with children had them before they became Wardens. It’s another effect of the Joining.” He shrugged and straightened, “But I have more now with Starr and Marcail than I could ever imagine in my dreams. I’ll just have to spoil Teagan’s children rotten. Let’s go.”

The Dalish sitting next to Starr made room for Alistair and Zevran to join them. Starr’s smile banished any lingering sadness. He put one arm around her so she could lean against him and raised an eyebrow as he looked at the still sleeping child, “I see you have another admirer, my dear, should I be worried about him? He seems pretty attached.” There were chuckles from the people surrounding them.

“Maybe it’s a girl,” she countered.

Alistair shook his head slightly and smiled, “Let’s just call it ‘male intuition.’” Some of the men nearby hid smiles and Zevran chortled.

Starr looked at him askance but decided not to pursue the matter. “We were talking about Orzammar; want to add your impressions?”

“Like how the dwarves followed you around as if you were a Paragon of womanly perfection?” Zevran slyly smirked even as Starr shook her head, blushing furiously. Alistair just rolled his eyes at the memory and hugged her a little tighter. “Or how many referred to bellissima as LD, the long-legged dwarf, because of your sumptuous curves?” his voice lingered over the word ‘sumptuous.’

“I think we should tell them how your marriage must have been recorded by the Shaper of Memories. How many non-dwarves get married in Orzammar, and one of them a Grey Warden? And the party in the Tavern afterwards . . .” Leliana suggested. 

Oghren glared at Zevran, “Not true, you pipe-cleaning Antivan, there wasn’t any parade of dwarves following her around like she was the sodding Pied Piper! The Paragon worthy curves though, ahhh yes.” By now, Starr was blushing so furiously Alistair felt the heat through his shirt. He glared at Zevran and Oghren, who were busy exchanging insults, and then looked down to see if all the laughter had wakened the babe, but it was sleeping peacefully. He also just happened to notice that her blush extended all the way down to her breasts.

“I don’t know how I do it,” he said, his voice droll. “I don’t know how I bear the burden of being married to the most beautiful woman in Thedas. It might take me years to figure it out. At least it’s teaching me patience, and tolerance,” he said with a pointed look at Oghren. Oghren just chuckled and took another belt from his flask.

“I imagine it takes you years to figure out anything, Alistair, including how to put the right boot on the right foot,” Morrigan couldn’t resist the opening. She still didn’t like Alistair, though he was at least tolerable now, but she did like Starr so her insults were few. But if the fool was going to open the door wide, well, her mother taught her to take advantage when opportunity presented itself.

The child woke up and started pulling on Starr’s shirt, giving Oghren more opportunities to leer and make comments until the boy’s mother came and got him. Elissa hit the dwarf on the head, but that only stopped him for a few minutes. Some of the Dalish were repulsed but most were bewildered, fascinated and even amused at the interchange between the strangers among them. Certainly, Sarel would have many stories to tell around future fires.

Before the feasting began, Alistair took Starr over to Master Varathorn. “Welcome back, Alistair, Starrelena. You have come to see the items we discussed earlier?” He brought out the carving of the halla and a selection of bows.

Starr grinned at Alistair, “I already know you’re going to get the halla. The only question is whether you keep it or give it to Marcail,” she teased. “These bows are exquisite. You are indeed a master craftsman, Master Varathorn,” she said respectfully. Varathorn was noticeably pleased with her praise. Starr’s eyes lit on a small shield with detailed engravings of the forest and halla. “May I see that shield, please, Master Varathorn?”

While Varathorn placed the shield in front of them, Alistair looked at Starr, “I thought Marcail would like a new bow, seeing as how he’s a good archer.”

“But he adores you and is learning how to use a sword. You use sword and shield so he will want to learn those as well. This shield, this shield he will want to keep long after he outgrows it and give it to his children. This and a long dagger will be perfect. The dagger can serve as a sword until he gets bigger. And he will never outgrow a good dagger,” Starr explained. Varathorn nodded his head in agreement with that last statement and Alistair examined the shield. It was not only beautiful it was of excellent quality and a size Marcail would be able to use for at least a couple of years.

Tracing the carvings on the shield, he had to ask, “Do these carvings tell a story or are they decorative?” He tried to remember what Starr had told him and hazarded a guess, “Maybe about Ghilan’nain?”

Varathorn was pleased, “It is not often that a human takes any interest in our history or our gods. These carvings do not tell a story but they do honor both Andruil and Ghilan’nain.” Decisions made, they joined the others at the feast. Tonight was a time to celebrate.

 

[1] A more familiar, or casual greeting

[2] I’m sorry (guessing at the contraction)


	58. Soldier’s Peak

“That’s it!” she yelled and kicked the desk in an unusual fit of temper. “I am sick and tired of fighting dead people!” Levi Dryden watched her with wide eyes, not sure where to look or go. The others were also surprised to see the normally even-tempered woman scowling at the corpses on the floor.

Only two men were amused as well as wary, they’d both seen her temper tantrums in the past. The one she married approached her carefully, “You said that about cats once. Every time you and your mother brought milk home after visiting one of the farmers in Redcliffe, you had to keep the cats away while she carried the bucket of milk. Didn’t stop you from playing with kittens, though.”

Starr glared at him, though she had to put some effort into it now, “I’m not about to cuddle a corpse or play Hide-and-go-rot with Sophia, Stair.” Thinking about what she said she apologized, “I’m sorry Levi, no disrespect intended.” She turned her attention back to her husband, “Do you know how hard it is to cook when you’ve smelled nothing but corpses all day? I could put tree bark in a bowl and you’d eat it, but the others need something a little more like food.”

“Oak or maple?”

“What . . .”

“What kind of tree bark do you think I’d like? I think maple would be better,” Alistair deadpanned.

Starr snorted and reluctantly smiled, “I’m sorry about that. I don’t really know why I snapped; let’s get back to business. There are a lot of books to go through. Demons need to stay on their own side of the fence,” she muttered. Elissa was questioning Avernus in his lab, now that the Veil was closed and no more demons could get through. Zevran, Leliana, Sten, Morrigan, Fen and Griffon were inspecting Soldier’s Peak from the outside and judging its security as well as searching the smaller buildings for information. She, Alistair, and Wynne, were in the library hoping to find something about the Blight and the Archdemon in all those books. Levi, Garren, Mithra and Oghren were roaming around the Peak looking for anything interesting and taking the corpses outside to be burned. If they found any books, they would bring them back to the library.

“I suggest we empty one shelf at a time. Many of these are probably just ledgers about running and maintaining Soldier’s Peak. Work orders, repair records, purchases, and the like. They should be easy to identify and we can put those back on the shelf.” Wynne spoke from her experience assisting Irving at the Circle.

“I agree, give anything else to me and I’ll take a look at it. I doubt Grey Warden secrets are going to just be left lying around the library, but then this wasn’t exactly open to just anybody,” Alistair stated. The fireplace in the big hall was still in working order so they had built a fire. Starr found a bunch of rags, boiled them clean, and hung them to dry in the warmth. Each of them took some rags to wipe down the shelves and give a quick wipe to the books before placing them back on the shelves.

Wynne was right; most of them were ledgers. There were a number of books or journals, which were interesting from a historical perspective, but only five promised to have any information Alistair and Elissa could use now. Alistair sat down to read while Wynne and Starr moved to the kitchen. It was covered in the grime of centuries, but no dead people littered the floor. Starr figured if she could get it reasonably clean and used her own tools, she could cook in there and they could eat at the table. It was probably the only place inside or outside the keep that was free of dead bodies. After a while, Garren and Mithra joined them and it didn’t take long at all to get the room in decent condition. Garren went with her to get what she needed.

“I’m glad Keeper Lanaya let you and Mithra come with us, lethallin,” Starr began, “although I don’t think this was what either of you expected.”

“An abandoned fortress full of walking dead, demons and an old, old mage? No, perhaps not,” Garren agreed. “Actually Keeper thought it would be a good idea for us to work with you, the experience might help us understand humans a little better. Or at least how to deal with them.” He shrugged and smiled a little, “And it will be nice to see Marcail again. What does he think of Alistair?”

Starr laughed at the memory of their first meeting. “When Stair told Marcail he was his father, Marcail punched him in the nose. They had a long talk and now they adore each other. Last time we were in Redcliffe, we hid our relationship. We wanted Marcail to get to know Stair better without any distractions. We needn’t have bothered; before we left again, he was strongly hinting that Stair should be with us. He wants us to be a family.”

Garren hesitated, the Dalish valued privacy but he considered Starrelena a sister, “Lethallan, Marcail doesn’t know your Alistair is not his father?”

It seemed like a long time before she spoke, her voice tinged faintly with distress, “His father, a good man, is dead and that’s all I told him. I thought Stair was dead too and wouldn’t mind if I let people think _he_ was the father; it was safer for Marcail. Lethallin, King Maric is Stair’s father and Cailan is Marcail’s. Loghain’s actions at Ostagar . . . Marcail’s safety . . . better if Stair,” she took a deep breath to regain her composure. “Stair knows the truth, all of it. He decided to publicly claim Marcail as his son and loves him deeply. I couldn’t ask for a better father. Later, when it’s safer, we will tell Marcail the truth.”

Garren’s eyes widened. The Dalish might not interact with the shemlen more than they could help but even he could see the ramifications for Marcail if this Loghain knew the truth. “By the Creators, this is the same Loghain who led the Night Elves when Orlesians controlled Ferelden?” Starr nodded. “He would kill a child?” he had a hard time picturing the man he had heard of doing such a thing.

“Let me tell you about Elissa Cousland and a man named Rendon Howe, a man who is Loghain’s right hand,” Starr began. She told him all about the betrayal and the carnage created by Howe, including the murder of another child. “Arl Eamon was not going to announce that Stair is Maric’s son and Cailan’s brother until we’re in Denerim and ready for the Landsmeet. Even if Loghain has spies that survived the troubles at Redcliffe and the fighting between Redcliffe and Denerim, there should be no reason to take any interest in gossip about a bastard’s bastard. Certainly not enough to send a message or make a special trip.”

“Keeper Aranella said your life wouldn’t be boring.” It was the first thing Garren could think of to say. He shook his head and looked at his friend and sister, “I will say nothing, but you already know this. I will help you any way I can, da’lethellan. And your Alistair.” Starr closed her eyes and nodded her thanks, smiling. She knew she could trust Garren to keep his promise. Together they finished gathering what they needed and returned to the kitchen.

Later, after dinner, Starr went back to the library where Alistair was looking through the last of the books they found. She was curious about what he wanted to talk to her about, why it couldn’t wait until later. He had a book open on the desk but he was looking into the fire and massaging the bridge of his nose, always a sign that he was disturbed about something. She silently walked up to him, “What’s wrong, emma lath? Did you find something in one of these books?”

Alistair stared blankly for a moment, “The books? Oh, no. No, there’s nothing there, at least not about how to kill an Archdemon. But, I think they will be very helpful later. I want to talk to you about something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.” At some point Alistair had brought a small sofa and placed it in front of the fire, beating out as much dust as he could. He guided Starr until they both sat down. “Just remember that I love you, and if I have to be king I’m glad you’ll be at my side as my queen.” He took a deep breath and spoke quickly, “WhenwegettoRedcliffeIdon’twanttotellanybodywe’remarried.”

Starr looked at him, waiting for the punch line that didn’t come. He could feel her withdrawal, even though she didn’t say anything or move or even blink. She just kept looking at him, her eyes a frosty grey as she waited. “Here’s the thing,” Alistair went on with unhappy determination. “I’m worried about Marcail and you. About what Eamon might do and what Loghain might do. I don’t know what Eamon will think about our marriage, and I don’t want to give him a chance to look for a way to nullify it. If we wait until the Landsmeet and announce it before the Bannorn, then there’s nothing he can do.”

“Are you saying we should hide our relationship again?” Starr asked coolly.

“Maker, no! I don’t think I’d survive. If Eamon was my only concern, I wouldn’t even suggest it. If Eamon knows, then there’s no doubt in my mind that Loghain and Howe will know. And that puts a target on your back and Marcail’s. I think we should take precautions. We have to bring Marcail with us to Denerim, there just won’t be enough soldiers left for me to feel comfortable leaving Marcail behind.”

Starr thought about what Alistair was saying, “So we don’t hide we’re together, just that we got married. You do know Eamon won’t like being blindsided.”

“Yeah, but he’s not going to start a war about it. After all we’ve done for him . . . I think he’ll get over it,” Alistair huffed. She nodded slowly and he continued, “I think, when we get to Denerim, we don’t go to Eamon’s right away. I say we make our way quietly to The Pearl and talk to Sanga about a place for you and Marcail, somewhere big enough for Zev, Leliana, Fen, Garren and Mithra. Everybody else can go with Eamon to the estate and I’ll meet up with them later. We don’t lose anything by trying.”

“You do realize that _you_ will have to stay at Eamon’s? Even if we find a place, you can’t be with us or this, this subterfuge won’t work,” Starr warned.

Glumly, Alistair nodded. He sighed, “I know, I can visit but I can’t stay. We’ll probably not have much time to spend together anyway. At least if you’re in a separate place, Marcail can still call me ‘Dad’ and we won’t have to ask him not to. I don’t ever want to tell him that. After the Landsmeet, no matter how it goes, we can be together as a family.” They were silent, sitting together and staring into the fire.

After some time passed, Starr shifted, “What happened to the Grey Wardens who defeated the other Archdemons? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about them afterwards.”

“I’m not sure, I know some of them died; they were probably really badly injured. I don’t know about the rest. Some of the histories could probably tell us but we don’t have time to go through them. I think I agree with Elissa, the Wardens have been a little too secretive. I mean, I became a Grey Warden six months before Elissa did, yet I know Duncan didn’t tell me everything he knew, or even where I could find more information. You know, if you had become a Warden, you would have pestered him until you knew everything. The man wouldn’t have been able to turn sideways without you being there. I wish I had been more an-, um, persistent,” Alistair quickly corrected himself.

Starr narrowed her eyes at him to let him know she noticed but said instead, “Let’s go find Elissa, tell her what we want to do and see if that Avernus told her anything useful. He’s a bit creepy, isn’t he?”

Unfortunately, Avernus wasn’t able to tell Elissa more about the Archdemon and the Wardens’ role in its death. She agreed with Alistair’s assessment about Eamon and suggested that Leliana and Zevran go to Denerim instead of Redcliffe with the rest of them. They could speak with Sanga and nobody would be better able to judge security than the two of them. If there was a place to be had, it would be ready for them.


	59. Griffon

The old fortress and all its dead people were behind them. Their smell was still stuck in his nose, not a completely bad smell but not as good as the rabbit on the fire. She of the Food, her mate and the wolf were the only ones left. The others went with his Elissa to see if the bad man had a cache of weapons in an old cave used during the war. But not this war. He didn’t understand. He understood the cold wet stuff on the ground called snow. He understood the rabbit would taste good. He even understood that She of the Food wasn’t making it for him. She made other good things for him and the wolf.

He was bored. There was no danger that he could smell and the wolf was in the woods around camp hunting. The wolf never let him hunt with him because he always scared off the prey before they got close. He huffed to himself; he was _supposed_ to scare things away. The MateFriend was out checking some traps. He touched faces with She of the Food but they didn’t lick each other. He knew humans called it kissing, but they were wrong. Of course, their tongues were pretty small from what he could tell. MateFriend sometimes played sticks with him. So did Big and Silent, but neither were here. He went back to watching the rabbit over the fire.

Starr stretched and took off her fur vest. There might be snow on the ground but it wasn’t that cold and there was no breeze. With their tent behind her and the cooking fire in front, she was sitting in a pocket of warmth that allowed her to be comfortable in just the shirt and britches. They had plenty of provisions, but the thought of fresh stew was too tempting and they deserved something after another castle of dead people. Hopefully, Alistair’s traps would catch a lot of rabbits because she was feeling hungry. _“I think Mother used different seasonings for rabbit stew but I can’t remember what they were,”_ she crawled back into the tent to find her mother’s recipes.

The rabbit was unguarded. Griffon perked up his ears and looked around, nobody to stop him. He walked forward as softly as he could then started running when he got close. He snatched the rabbit from over the fire, knocking a few things over but he kept running. He started whining as he ran. The rabbit was hot, hot, hot. When he was on the other side of camp, he dropped it in the cold, cold snow. She of the Food was out of her tent and looking around. She saw Griffon and started running towards him. _“Oh good, She of the Food wants to play,”_ he picked up the rabbit and pranced around excitedly. When she got close, he ran away. This was one of his favorite games. He and his Elissa used to play this game a lot. He was very good at it.

Unbeknownst to Starr and Alistair they did not have the camp to themselves, Oghren was still in his tent. He’d slipped on the sodding ice and Wynne told him to stay behind and keep off his ankle. The expedition to the cave wasn’t critical or likely to be dangerous, so it was simple enough to stay behind with his flask and his tent. At least inside the tent he had the illusion he wasn’t going to be sucked up into the sky. He’d fallen into a light doze when the commotion broke out. He peered outside his tent and gawked as Starr chased after Griffon, cursing under her breath. Since the camp wasn’t being attacked, he decided to enjoy the show without letting his presence be known.

Starr narrowed her eyes at Griffon, calculating. He looked like he could run away from her all day long, but she wasn’t going to let him keep that rabbit or he might think he could do this again. _“I really wanted that rabbit,”_ she whined to herself. Maybe if she distracted him she could get it away from him. She began making a snowball.

Griffon cocked his head in curiosity, his eyes shining. He chuffed and wondered if this was a new game. Then he was hit again and again. He had to shake the snow out of his eyes and ears, allowing her to get closer.

Alistair returned in time to see his beloved wife throw one last snowball before tackling Elissa’s mabari. His jaw dropped when she wrestled the rabbit out of Griffon’s mouth and threw it into the fire where flames engulfed it. In his opinion, that was risking death. He couldn’t help smiling at the identical disgruntled expressions on the two combatants. Starr stood up and walked away, warning Griffon that he’d get no more food from her if he ever did that again.

Griffon didn’t know the rules of this game, but he was determined not to lose. He regretted the waste of a perfectly good rabbit. Without stopping to think, he ran after her. When She of the Food turned around, he jumped. She went down in the snow, covered by lots of dog. Griffon licked her face and moved away. He’d won.

Starr sat up, brushing snow out of her hair and generally trying to straighten herself up. She felt a little foolish now. She started to rearrange her shirt until she realized it was torn. Alistair burst out laughing when she whipped the torn shirt off her back and held it up to see the damage while yelling at the mabari. In his tent, Oghren was transfixed. She was close enough he could see the goose bumps forming on her breasts, her very fine breasts with big rosy nipples just the way he liked them. Griffon knew she was upset with him and whimpered.

She looked around when she heard Alistair’s laughter. She glared at him. “Elizabeth made me this shirt,” she yelled at him, “and it’s the only one left that wasn’t damaged.” She scowled and examined it more closely. She could repair it but she would like to have just one shirt that was in one piece. She started shivering as Alistair came over, still chuckling.

He helped her up but couldn’t resist tracing the line of goose bumps on her breasts, “Let’s get you warmed up, you’re either cold or glad to see me,” he teased. She looked down so he couldn’t see her eyes and nuzzled his neck. With one hand, she snaked under his leather tunic and found the top of his britches. He sucked in his breath when she eased her hand inside and loosened the band. Then he gasped in shock when, with her other hand she dropped a snowball and removed her hands. She quickly stepped away and picked up her shirt. As far as she was concerned, they were even. Not so, “You’ll pay for that, sneaky minx,” Alistair gasped as he tried to get the snow away from his parts. He charged.

Starr squealed when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Sometimes she forgot how fast he was without his armor. Griffon was dancing around them, not sure if they were playing or not. “Put me down,” she demanded, her hair trailing in the snow behind him while she kicked at him with her feet and hit at his back with her fists. His response was a sharp smack on her backside and a growled order to stop.

By now Oghren was outside his tent and watched the two of them go inside theirs. Well, watched Alistair take her inside. He quietly called to Griffon.

Griffon trotted over to Short Smelly. He sat, watching the tent of She of the Food and MateFriend in concern and listening. When they heard three quick slaps of a hand against flesh, he whined and started forward. Short Smelly grabbed his collar and stopped him. “Can’t mess with a man’s danglers, without expecting payback,” Oghren explained, burping. As far as he was concerned, three smacks on the bottom was fair enough. His imagination started to wander to more pleasurable activities a bare bottom could lead to. Judging by the almost silence coming from their tent he figured they also found something better to do. Oghren looked at Griffon, “Huh, thanks for the show. I’ll see if I can get some of them mabari crunches for you. Old Oghren takes care of his pals. Why don’t we talk about those chariots again?”

That night Griffon noted that She of the Food and MateFriend were acting normally. She would only glare at him, though, and wouldn’t give him any food. Oddly, MateFriend and Short Smelly gave him lots of food when nobody else was looking.


	60. Back in Denerim

It was tricky, but they got out of Redcliffe without too much trouble. Garren and Mithra camped a day’s journey outside the village until Starr and Marcail joined them. Eamon and the Wardens caught up to them when the Arl was ready to leave a few days later. Alistair decided if they ever traveled overland with Marcail again, they would need a much bigger tent. The combined tent he and Starr shared was cozy, with Marcail it was confining. And chaste. There wasn’t much he and Starr could do with their son between them, and Eamon wanted to move quickly. To make matters worse it rained the entire way to Denerim. Alistair certainly hoped Zev and Leliana got lucky. At least the lowered visibility made it easier for the small group to break away and enter the city separately.

Luckily, some things were going their way. Sanga and Oskar had recently purchased a small house but hadn’t moved in yet. Zevran and Leliana both gave it their seal of approval. A tall stone wall surrounded the house at the end of a moderately quiet neighborhood overlooking the docks and comprised mostly of merchants, craftsmen and their families. Even some ships’ captains lived there, so activity at unusual hours wouldn’t be worthy of special notice. At one point it must have belonged to smugglers because in the small wine cellar they found a cleverly disguised trap door which had obviously not been used for ages and was hidden by a couple of old barrels. It led to an underground passage going towards the docks. After watching the dock entrance for several days and nights, the assassin and the bard concluded it was no longer being used and most likely had been forgotten. Indeed, the dense overgrowth made it difficult to enter or exit. They set some traps far enough inside that they wouldn’t be triggered by a mildly curious individual.

“The house has a reputation of being haunted, which is why it was empty for so long,” Leliana explained. “I think not all occupants knew about the tunnel underneath them and did not know what to make of any strange noises in the cellar. Zevran and I have been living here in the guise of servants preparing the house for the new owners. There is much work to be done, so more workers or servants are expected. Sanga and Oskar will continue to come here often to inspect or supervise the work; none need to know that they will be with Marcail while you have other things to do.”

Marcail was busy talking to Garren and getting to know his new ‘grandparents.’ For their part, Sanga and Oskar were charmed by the young boy and were more than willing to help Starr and Alistair keep him safe. “From the roof is a good view of the area, bellissima. I have been up there many nights and none have noticed me while I saw everything. Whoever owned this house long ago was definitely security savvy.” Zevran had been silent up to then. “I have also heard some of the nobles who are already here grousing about Eamon and the Landsmeet. They are not happy with him, my friends. They do not yet know about Alistair, but we will have our work cut out for us, I think.”

Alistair rolled his eyes, “There’s a surprise.” Zevran left the two of them alone in order to speak to Garren and Mithra. “My love, do you think we should tell Marcail about Orzammar now? I hate to keep hiding it from him.”

“I think so. I don’t see any reason to wait any longer, there’s not much chance of a spy in the woodwork,” she chewed her lower lip as she thought it over. “I think he’ll feel more comfortable if he knows now rather than later.” Together they went to get Marcail and take him upstairs for privacy, “Marcail, there’s something we want to tell you,” Starr began.

“I know, Mom,” Marcail stated. He made a face when he added, “You and Dad do kissy face stuff. I think everybody knows.”

Starr turned her head and bit her lip while Alistair coughed to hide his laugh, “Yes, we do disgusting ‘kissy face’ stuff but that’s not what we wanted to tell you.” He looked into his son’s eyes, “I love your mother very much and she loves me. Before we returned to Redcliffe, we got married.”

“We wanted to tell you, but we were afraid,” Starr took over. “There are some people who want to hurt your father and stop him from what he’s doing. We love you very much and one of the easiest ways to hurt either of us is through you. If these people have spies in Redcliffe then they might decide to try to hurt you. Neither of us wants that to happen. We couldn’t take the chance that they might hear something.”

Alistair hugged Marcail to him, “We’re a family now, and soon we can all live together like one. This is the first time I’ve felt safe enough to tell you, but you can’t tell anybody or talk to anybody about it except in this house. Not until we say it’s okay. Maker’s breath, I love you so very, very much. I hope you understand why we kept it a secret.”

Marcail looked at the two of them with wide blue eyes, “You’re really married? We’re a real family?” They both nodded and smiled at him. “But it has to be a secret or Dad could get hurt,” they watched him mull that over and then he threw his arms around Alistair’s neck, “I won’t tell, I promise. Not until you say I can.” Starr wrapped her arms around her two men and they stayed that way for several minutes.

“I better get to the estate,” Alistair reluctantly pulled away. They walked downstairs together, “Zevran and I will meet you and Leliana at the Gnawed Noble in about an hour, will that be enough time?” Starr nodded and kissed them both goodbye. She watched as Alistair said goodbye to Marcail and then left with Zevran.

She felt Marcail’s hand steal into hers and she looked down at her son and smiled. “He’ll be back,” she reassured him. “He’s doing everything he can to make sure you’re safe, you know that don’t you?” Marcail sniffled but nodded. “Let’s go see what Sanga and Oskar want to do. Since we’re here, I think it’s only fair that we help them get this place cleaned and fixed up. We’ll camp in one room while we work on the rest of the house. I like the bedroom that faces out to the sea. We can watch the ships come in and out of the harbor. What about you?”

Alistair had just changed out of his leathers and back into his heavy armor when word came that Loghain was approaching. He and Elissa were ready and standing with Eamon when the ‘regent’ strode in followed by Ser Cauthrien and Rendon Howe. He could feel the anger and hatred rolling off his fellow Warden, even though her face betrayed no emotion beyond a flicker in her eyes. He was proud and awed by her control. He fought to emulate her as he faced his brother’s betrayer. For once, he was grateful to be wearing a helmet; even with the visor up his face was partially shadowed.

_“Arl Rendon Howe really is an oily little bastard. Was he always like this? How did Teyrn Cousland not notice, or was the ratbastard that good at covering his true nature?”_ Alistair couldn’t help wondering. He also noticed that for all his determination and strength of purpose, something was different about Loghain. He could almost swear that for all his confidence the man seemed almost haunted. You had to look closely, but it was there. It reminded him of the disagreement he and Starr had months previously. He was content to let Eamon and Elissa take the lead in this opening round, and allow Loghain continue to underestimate him for now. Loghain might have doubts now but he was too set and too far on his course of action to change. They definitely needed to win at the Landsmeet because there was no chance of Loghain backing down before then.

He frowned to himself as he listened to Elissa asking Eamon for more information about Loghain. Hearing about him and Maric together was unsettling and he wondered how Loghain could justify his actions now. They seemed so contrary to his actions then. Maybe he was delusional as Starr suggested once, it was a possibility he could at least consider now. However delusional or haunted Loghain might be, they had to be very careful. He was still a brilliant adversary. Alistair focused on the conversation in time to hear Eamon suggest they find out what people were thinking.

It was close to two hours before they entered the Gnawed Noble. A quick glance told Alistair that Starr and Leliana weren’t in the main room. He strolled to the back room while Elissa worked her way through the nobles sitting comfortably. They found a table and sat down to wait. Unfortunately for their side, while most of the common people were unhappy with Loghain, only about half were willing to listen to Eamon. The others wanted to take care of the darkspawn first. The nobles seemed even less inclined to talk about change. They were anxious to get back to their holdings so they could prepare their defenses as much as possible.


	61. Leliana’s Fashion Advice

Starr and Leliana were getting ready to leave the house. Garren and Mithra were feeling a little overwhelmed by the city, so they were happy to stay at the house and guard. Sanga and Oskar were looking forward to spending the time with the boy they considered a grandchild. “We need to go to a dressmaker,” Leliana declared. “Not only is it a good place for the latest gossip you need something to wear to the Landsmeet.”

Starr looked blankly at the redhead, “What’s wrong with armor or the dress I already have?”

“If Alistair is king you will be queen. You must appear to be strong and capable, not just a pretty face or many may try to take advantage. Alistair can wear his armor because he is a warrior, fighting a vicious enemy just as his father did. That is a good image for him. You will not be able to leave Marcail at the palace to fight at his side as you have been, you know this.” Starr acknowledged the point. “The first impression the nobles have of you will be extremely important, you can either help or hurt Alistair.” Sanga agreed. “You are very different from Queen Anora and the Bannorn should see this as well.”

“So I’m exchanging one battlefield for another,” Starr tilted her head. “And I don’t want some frilly dress. I don’t like dresses. I’m much more comfortable in britches or armor. They need to see me for who I am.”

The bard nodded her head thoughtfully, “Who are you? A mother, a warrior, a woman with strong convictions and a great deal of compassion. You are strong and fiercely loyal. You are Ferelden to the bone. This is the image we need to show the Bannorn, a true Fereldan woman. We need a dressmaker who can work with Master Wade in order to create what we need. That may not be easy, he is rather temperamental.” Starr smiled at the understatement.

“Perhaps I can help.” Sanga, intrigued by Leliana’s description and how well it suited Starr, suggested two dressmakers who, while not favorites of the highest nobles, were quite talented, inventive and might actually be able to work with the armorer. Moreover, while their establishments were usually busy with customers full of the latest gossip, these two dressmakers were quite discreet. Sanga had accounts with both of them and suggested they put the dress on her tab and pay her back later. She even wrote a brief note of authorization for them.

“I quite like your friends Sanga and Oskar. He is quite gentle for such a big man,” Leliana said once they were on their way. “And they are doing their best to make your Dalish friends feel comfortable. I think I offended them and that was not my intent.”

Starr tried to think how to answer the redhead, “Talking about elves as servants or slaves probably wasn’t the best way to initiate a conversation. I know you were being friendly, but I don’t think you realized you were talking to them as elves, not as people.”

“I, is that what I was doing? It was, wasn’t it? I thought I was open-minded, but perhaps not as much as I thought. You have given me much to think about,” Leliana frowned.

“If you really want to know them better, just apologize and tell them what you told me. Talk to Mithra first, she’ll just be more prickly if you talk to Garren without her. Look, there’s one of the dressmakers Sanga told us about.” They went inside where there were a few people milling around and gossiping about Eamon’s arrival, Maric’s bastard, and what it all meant. They got more information from the idle chatter than help from the dressmaker. As soon as she heard they wanted her to work with Master Wade, she went into a rage. Apparently, they had some sort of feud going as a result of his denigrating the quality of her work and the level of her taste. The two women quickly left the shop; back on the street, Starr shook her head, “Let’s hope we have better luck with the other one.”

They stepped inside the second establishment and Starr’s first thought was that Wynne would love it. She pointed out the section of yarns, tapestry threads and a variety of related items to Leliana. They found the dressmaker, Nirelle, and explained what they wanted. She was intrigued at the idea of collaboration between her and the armorer in order to create a whole new ‘battledress.’ “You’re giving me ideas, sweetie. Material first and then I want to go with you to Wade’s Emporium. I know how to deal with that hen, Herren.” She took them to the back of her store, muttering to herself, “Rich, regal, strong . . . velvet? No maybe not . . . cotton and wool too every day . . . but maybe . . . humph.” Using the ladder she kept there, she got some materials from the top shelf. “I bought these, not quite sure how I would use them, but I think they will be exactly what we want.” When she found everything she sought, she brought the bundles to her worktable and spread them out. As she began opening the bags she explained, “This is a heavy raw silk. It has more body than velvet and will work better with the leather, I think. Certainly, it will be easier to incorporate leather instead of metal into your fancy battledress. Red, you make sure nobody comes back here while I take your friend’s measurements. Sweetie, you undress and then start deciding what color you want.”

Starr flushed as she dropped her armor, this was one part of specially made items she didn’t think she would ever get used to. She also felt relief when she removed the chestpiece and made a mental note to loosen it a bit. “These are beautiful, Nirelle, it’s hard to decide.” Garnet, forest green, sky blue, deep purple, burnished gold, midnight blue and one fabric that appeared to be shades of brilliant ruby intertwined with deep burgundy dazzled her eyes. When Nirelle was finished taking measurements she was ready with her decision. “The purple, please. Can you show me what you’re thinking before we go to Wade’s?”

“Certainly, you get dressed and I’ll get this fabric put away first.” Nirelle bustled about the room, excited about doing something new. She had a feeling this could be very beneficial to her business if it worked out. Ferelden was full of strong women who might like an alternative to a dress or basic armor. “Do you plan on actually carrying any weapons, sweetie?”

“Daggers. I’ll want to wear bracers with wrist sheaths for daggers, maybe at my waist as well. I doubt I’ll have my bow or sword with me.”

Nirelle began humming as she sketched. Leliana, now that Starr was dressed, joined her and together they watched a design taking shape. First britches, but nothing like any they had seen before. They were a full leg, full enough that the material would flow almost as a skirt would but not long enough to reach the floor. It looked like they would fall below the knee and the top of a boot. Starr approved of that, she would still be able to reach the daggers in her boots. The shirt had an upright collar that wasn’t too high and sleeves that were about three quarters as long as normal sleeves. They were full, mimicking the pants and allowing plenty of room for the bracers, but not full enough to get in the way if Starr had to fight. Finally, Nirelle sketched a long vest, long enough to cover her rear. It appeared to be loosely fitted with slits at the side for ease of movement. The vest resembled a uniform.

Nirelle pointed to the vest, “Obviously Wade will make the boots, bracers and I am guessing the armor will be something along these lines. However, I thought you might want an alternative to the armor, something a bit dressier but still give the same impression.”

Starr nodded thoughtfully, “It would certainly be more comfortable than wearing the leather if I don’t need it. Do you have any velvet the same color as the silk? If you do maybe for the body of the vest you could weave velvet and silk to give it more texture.”

Nirelle narrowed her eyes, picturing it and nodded her head, “yes, yes that would work. I have the velvet, and I can use the velvet as trim for the britches and blouse, maybe velvet with silver embroidery down the side and along the bottom of the pants. Also on top of the shoulders, yes, that’s what I’ll do. You’ll be more comfortable if the shirt is a lighter weight silk.”

“Nirelle,” Starr hesitated before continuing, “this is definitely a priority, but after, could you do a simpler version in wool and cotton? One that would accommodate bow and blade? I think something like this would be perfect for everyday. I was thinking I could ask Master Wade to make a second set of armor that was tan or light brown.”

The dressmaker was delighted; a beautiful woman wearing a new design was bound to be good for business. Briskly she replied, “I have some felted wool in a dark sage that would look good with tan or brown. Will that do?” Mentally she danced a jig when Starr agreed. She left them to get everything she would need before they left. She was taking no chances that one of her assistants would sell anything she wanted to use before she was done with it.

Leliana, who had been quiet, approved of the design. It was practical, elegant, and conveyed exactly the right feeling. She spoke up, “if all goes well, you should have more alternatives to the green and maybe consider one of each color of the silk. They all suit you. Whether you choose to have boots and other armor made for each color or choose to have a nice neutral to go with all of them is up to you. I think it could become your signature look and will definitely suit your desire for comfort as well as being quite attractive. I don’t think it will hurt if many women decide to emulate you. Perhaps it will come to signify the woman of Ferelden, stylish and strong?”

Starr tilted her head as she considered the idea, “I suppose I will have to have a lot more clothes than I do now, and they might as well be comfortable. I have no interest in suffering for fashion’s sake on a regular basis. I remember some of your tales of Orlais fashions,” she commented dryly. “If this is as comfortable as I hope, then I will definitely consider it.” That’s all she would say but Leliana noticed how her eyes lingered on the beautiful silks. Nirelle came back and they were off. Nirelle was so excited that she couldn’t stop talking, which suited Starr and Leliana just fine. They learned a lot about what the people of Denerim were thinking. Many were ready to know more about Maric’s bastard, the Grey Warden.

“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” Herren greeted them. “You and your friends have cost us enough business . . .”

He got no farther. “Quiet, you chittering donkey’s butt. We’re here to discuss something that could give us both a lot of future business as well as coin in our coffers today. I need to speak with Wade right now,” Nirelle demanded. Starr and Leliana were amused as Herren sputtered in indignation.

Wade came out of his back room, “I thought I heard the delightful tones of my friend, Nirelle. Nirelle, what have you been saying to turn Herren that unflattering shade of red? You know it doesn’t go with his hair.” He waved them all forward and Nirelle explained what they wanted and showed him the sketches. “Now this _is_ different, I can do this. And this is the fabric? I can dye the leather to match, perhaps a little darker. Two weeks, maybe three. Now go.”

“Five days, with a bonus if it’s completed in four,” Starr stated. Nirelle and Wade both argued with her but she knew they could get it done. The Landsmeet was in seven days, and she wanted to make sure it was done before then and to keep Wade focused. “Should I come by for a fitting in two days or three?” she asked Nirelle. They made arrangements and Nirelle started to leave. Leliana walked her to the door and had a brief conversation with her before she was gone. Wade and Starr were already in the back room so Wade could take her measurements.

“Master Herren,” Leliana began soothing the agitated man. “I know this is taking away from other commissions, which is why we are willing to pay for early completion. I get the feeling that you are the guiding hand for the business aspects of Wade’s Emporium, allowing Master Wade to concentrate on his craftsmanship and artistry. It must be quite interesting as well as occasionally frustrating.”

Herren visibly calmed down at her words, a sense of pride filled him that his efforts were appreciated. “Sometimes it is difficult, but mostly it is rewarding to work with someone of his skill and talent. Our partnership allows each of us to do what we do best. What did Nirelle mean about future possibilities?”

“The best partnerships always do that. About the future, well, Starr was hoping that you had some nice leather in tan or light brown for an additional set. One less fancy than the purple. An everyday set, as it were. Nirelle has this idea that many women would prefer something between regular armor and a dress. Practical, protective, and still feminine.  A woman running a large holding might not find a dress to be convenient.” Herren nodded as he considered the possibilities.

“It so happens that we always have the leather you’re looking for on hand. Most people don’t want unusual dye jobs, which is one reason Wade is so eager to do this. He does like his color. Here, let me show you what we keep in stock,” he quickly directed her to the leather available. “I think you’ll like this, it’s a rich butternut and more feminine, I’ve always thought.” Leliana agreed and they made an agreement for Wade to provide the second set in seven days.

Starr came out, blushing as Wade told her to stop growing her breasts. Herren closed his eyes in dismay and tactfully turned away as the two women left. Leliana hurried the young woman out the door before anything else could be said.

“Maker and Creators, what does he know? Does he think I’m watering them like a crop of corn?” Starr muttered, her face shining with embarrassment.

“Melons would be more to the point,” Leliana gently teased. Starr looked at her in astonishment then reluctantly snickered. “You have to admit that you have a much more generous bosom than somebody like Wade usually has to deal with. He probably doesn’t know that some days . . .” She steered Starr around the quieter areas of the market district so she could compose herself before they joined Alistair and the others. Alistair would not be happy with Wade if he knew. “Why do you say ‘Maker and Creators?’ Do you not believe in the Maker?”

Starr blinked at the change of subject. She thought about how to express what she felt, “I guess you could say I believe in the Maker, at least a higher power or being. I don’t know whether this being is more like the Chantry’s Maker or the Dalish Creators or something different. There are some similarities, including the core values of their, umm, codes of conduct. Sometimes I wonder if the differences are more because that was the presentation best understood at the time. I mean, maybe it was easier for the elves to see the different aspects of this power as different gods working more or less together. Maybe it was easier for humans to see one complicated being. I’m not sure that this power cares if we think about it differently. Don’t you believe some things differently from what you were told in the Chantry?”

“I, well, yes, I suppose I do. It’s not quite the same thing, though,” Leliana responded.

“No, I guess I need to be more careful. Maybe I should adopt the dwarven saying, ‘by my ancestors.’ Everybody has ancestors. And it’s better than ‘nug-humper.’” Starr made a face as she thought of one of Oghren’s favorites.

Leliana giggled. “You could say something about Calenhad, maybe ‘by the light of Calenhad’s armor’ or ‘Moira’s might!’”

“I like that one, ‘Moira’s might,’ it’s better than ‘Andraste’s knickerweasels,’” they both laughed at that one. “Maybe I could be fair to all citizens of Ferelden and say ‘Maker, Creators and Ancestors.’” The two women were still chuckling when they entered the Gnawed Noble Tavern. “Sorry we’re late,” Starr said when she and Leliana joined the others. “We were shopping. You know how much Leliana loves shopping.”

“Gathering information in a completely unsuspicious manner,” Leliana corrected her. “You need appropriate attire for the Landsmeet so we were merely operating efficiently and cleverly.”

“Never argue with a bard,” Starr muttered under her breath, but she didn’t seem terribly upset.

“We just got here a few minutes ago ourselves.” Alistair waved off their apologies and brought them up to date. “So it looks like there isn’t enough support right now for our side,” he concluded.

Leliana tilted her head and pursed her lips, “I am not so sure,” she mused. “That may be what they are saying, but the _way_ they are saying it tells me that it wouldn’t take much to change their minds, or at least open them to an alternative. Loghain’s methods have not endeared him to any but the most ardent follower or rank opportunist. As a result his support is, hmmm, a bit soft. There is still time, perhaps we can find a way to build on that.” They drank a couple of rounds and listened closely to the customers around them. When they didn’t learn anything new, they left, separating into small groups to wander the market once more as they made their way to Eamon’s.


	62. Before We Depose Her We Have to Rescue Her

Starr wondered if Howe really intended to kill Anora if he could frame the Wardens by doing so. Wouldn’t her father know? Loghain might be obsessed to the point of blindness in some areas, but would he really not know his daughter’s killer? In any case, in a weird twist they were going to rescue the woman they were planning to depose. She interrupted her musings when she and Zevran noticed the traps. The five of them halted, waiting for whomever to show themselves while she sprung the traps with her arrows. “Impressive,” a man called out while sarcastically clapping. “The Crows send their regards, Warden.”

Zevran called the man Taliesen, from the tone it sounded like they had been friends once. As they talked, Starr noted the positions of the archers that appeared above them and to the rear. It was a good place for an ambush. She saw some birds, crows, on the walls. Farther down the alley, she saw a couple of mangy dogs and a cat. She stared until they noticed her and then slowly made their way toward the people instead of away as they would normally. The birds also moved closer. She heard Alistair answer this Taliesen, “Zevran doesn’t need the Crows anymore.” This angered the man and Zevran confirmed _he_ would be fine, meaning the _Crows_ would not. Taliesen led the attack, but his archers were hindered.

The birds circled and attacked the archers above in darting movements that obscured their vision while the dogs and cat harassed the archers behind them, nipping and scratching. With the help of the animals and Morrigan’s spells it didn’t take long before the band of Crows was no more. Morrigan noted that the animals seemed to look to Starr before taking their leave. She wondered if this communication was merely an ability of some rangers or if it was more specific to Starr’s heritage.

Starr threw her arms around Zevran and hugged him tight, “I was so worried about you,” she sniffled against his braids. “I don’t want to lose you,” she said as she rubbed her cheek against his head.

Zevran had no complaints against a beautiful woman hugging him, his head in close proximity to a magnificent bosom, but he was surprised at Starr’s overly emotional reaction. “What is it bellissima? Did you have any doubts that we would prevail? You should know none can defeat us.”

She loosened her hold on her cousin enough so she could look him in the face, “That’s not it,” she mumbled. “I thought you might do something noble and give yourself up.” Zevran looked at her in utter surprise. Morrigan coughed to cover up her laughter at the thought.

“Me? Me, do something noble? You thought I, the practical and devastatingly handsome assassin would do something noble and illogical?” He didn’t know if he should be flattered that she thought so highly of him or insulted that he would be so stupid. Looking at the misery on her face he softened, “Ah bellissima, nothing I could have done would have prevented them from attacking you or killing me. I gave my oath to the Wardens, and I have no desire to leave you to the tender mercies of your templar without any recourse. I am yours,” Zevran kissed her softly. “Now dry your tears and let us be off. We have another beautiful woman to save and she might have need of comfort only I can provide.” He was relieved to see her smile at that last comment. He looked at Alistair, who only shrugged; he didn’t understand her being so visibly emotional either.

They reached the estate without any further trouble. Angry merchants from various crafts swarmed the front of the estate. Howe’s disinclination to pay what he owed worked in their favor as they searched for Anora’s maid-cum-personal spy. Erlina got them inside and to Anora’s door only to find it was magically warded. According to the voice behind the door, the mage was probably with Howe. Grousing, they searched deeper into the estate.

Recognition flooded Starr when they reached the best bedroom suite. Some of the furnishings were different, but the fireplace and most of the portraits were the same. She walked over to where he beat her, in her mind she could see the blond lord sneering down at her, tapping the whip against his palm. _“It must have been the Arl’s son; Arl Urien was an old man then. And he’s dead; the blond lord is dead, dead, dead.”_ The words danced in her head and her heart. What surprised her was that, bad as the memories were, they were just that. She didn’t feel crippled by them, as she would have even a year ago. She looked at Alistair and smiled, he was her personal cure. Morrigan would probably laugh herself into the Fade at the thought.

She was only a few steps behind the others and easily caught up. Howe’s bedroom had an entrance to the dungeons, she remembered. Next to the door was a chest, idly she flipped the lid and was surprised to find it unlocked. Howe was so arrogant he must not have thought any would dare invade his private space. She picked up the papers inside and examined them. They were encrypted and, “Stair, Elissa, isn’t this the Grey Warden seal?”

Elissa snatched them from her hands, “How did Howe get his hands on these? We can’t leave them behind,” she smoothed them out and carefully put them away.

“The dungeons here are . . . extensive. The first level we reach is more of a sitting room in comparison to the main level. If there is a third I do not know of it.” Starr warned.

Elissa looked at her in surprise, “You’ve been here before? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Until I saw the Arl’s bedroom suite I didn’t realize this was where I was a ‘special guest’ years ago. They didn’t use names around me and mostly what I saw was different parts of the dungeon.” Starr shrugged even as Alistair rubbed her arm in comfort. “There are a lot of rooms and plenty of ‘toys’ which I doubt have been removed. There might even be traps, the previous Arl’s son used to let a prisoner escape just in order to test out different types of traps.”

“This must be very difficult for you,” Elissa said after a moment. “I can only imagine how much so and I will completely understand if you want to remain with Erlina or perhaps back in the library. I won’t force you to go back down there. I know I would find it hard to see Highever right now.” Sorrow and pain were plain in her expression as she said the last.

“My pain was years, not months ago. Time and events,” she smiled at Alistair as she said this, “have dulled it to a series of bad memories. Of course, knowing he’s dead makes a difference even though a part of me wishes I could have been the one to end him.” Starr thought about that. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah, bellissima, such a strong woman. I find that very sexy,” Zevran couldn’t resist.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at the assassin, “Is there a female you don’t find sexy, elf?”

“Hmmm, fair point, perhaps not,” Zevran admitted, and then he thought of something, “except perhaps broodmothers and ancient witches.”

“Thank you so much for that intriguing image, I _don’t_ think,” Alistair sputtered as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Their arrival provided a distraction for a prisoner in the sole cell. Powerful arms reached through the bars and broke the guard’s neck. They waited as the prisoner donned the guard’s uniform and came out. It was hard to say who was more surprised, the prisoner or Alistair. “This is Riordan, an Orlesian Grey Warden, I recognize him from my Joining!”

Riordan agreed to meet them at Arl Eamon’s estate. He gathered up his papers from Elissa and pointed them in the direction of Arl Howe. His information that he was the only Warden to enter Ferelden was less welcome than his news about the Grey Warden vault. There was nothing more to be gained from this level, so they ventured down to the next. Security was stronger here and their disguises failed them when they didn’t know the password. From that point on, they had to fight for every foot forward.

One large room was well equipped for torture. Indeed, many experts were gathered around an occupied rack and plying their ‘particular’ talents. The Wardens gladly interrupted them and removed their skills from Thedas. Starr’s experience told her that standing would be difficult at first for the young man, Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard. She quickly massaged his lower legs, with Zevran’s help, and then assisted him off the table. He leaned against her for a few minutes until he could stand on his own. Of course, Alistair’s narrowing eyes may have hastened the process but only Zevran noticed. While he spoke to Elissa, she wandered to the far side of the room and examined the various devices hanging there.

One cage in a corner caught her eye. Oswyn was gone, more than eager to leave that place. The others were close enough to hear Starr murmur to herself, “Judging by the dust Howe didn’t understand what to do with this. Good thing for his prisoners.” Alistair and Zevran recognized what it was and, after making mental notes to come back at some point and destroy everything down here, they joined Starr as she walked away. Morrigan and Elissa looked at the cage with odd openings in puzzlement. They looked a bit sick when they realized the purpose of the openings and this particular cage. They were quiet when they joined the others.

They found cells. One poor man looked like he was starved and tortured; it was debatable if he would ever recover. In the last cell on that block was an elf. “Soris?” exclaimed Starr. “Is that really you? What are you doing here?”

The elf looked dazed at first, “What? Who . . . Starrelena? I thought you were dead, when we found Vionna . . . what happened? Some of us looked for you two when you didn’t show for her brother’s birthday but all we found was a smashed cake.” He shook his head, “I should go, I’ve been here so long . . . if you get a chance come by the Alienage. I still live with my uncle.” Before he left, he put his hand on her arm, “I’m glad you’re well, Starrelena. Valendrian would like to see you again as well.” He took off without giving her a chance to respond further.

“Do you want to visit the Alienage, my love? I think we’ll have time before the Landsmeet, if you wish.” Alistair offered.

“I was planning on doing that anyway, but I’m glad you’ll be with me. At least now I know some elves will be glad to see me. Soris was always kind,” she added.

“I’m hardly surprised,” Alistair muttered under his breath, albeit good-naturedly. He was starting to get used to it. Louder he said, “Then we’ll go as soon as we can. I’m sure there will be time before the Landsmeet.” He wondered what other surprises waited for them down here. “We haven’t found Howe or the mage we need, yet. There’s not much left to search unless there’s a lower level. Let’s go.”

Howe was waiting for them in the next block of cells. He sneered at Elissa, “The Cousland girl who wants to be a man. How droll. I wonder how long it will take before you lick my boots just as your mother did, before I finished gutting your father.”

“Die, traitor!”  was Elissa’s answer as she launched herself at her family’s murderer. She attacked with all the fervor of the hatred she had pent up for months. Alistair and the rest, by unspoken agreement, concentrated on Howe’s confederates and left Howe to Elissa.  The battle was bitter. It was fierce. It was short. Even his dying words were about his own greed and that he should have had more.  Elissa stared down at him, her face cold and still as she watched the blood pool under his still body. She noted with distant surprise that it was red; she half expected it to be black or even a poisonous green to reflect his nature. Still looking at the body, she addressed her companions, “Let’s make sure nobody else is locked up before we head back to Anora. We’ve wasted enough time here.” She didn’t look back once she stepped away.

They found one poor templar addled by lyrium withdrawal. He was Bann Alfstanna’s brother. Elissa agreed to tell her where he was. From what she remembered, they were close. There was one more person in a cell. Judging by the position, he was an important prisoner. He seemed to be fighting in his sleep. Alistair realized something was wrong when he heard Starr hiss then grab his arm, her fingers digging in. He could feel the pressure through his armor. He looked over at Zevran and saw that the Antivan had noticed Starr’s distress and was closely examining the prisoner in the cell. The man was blond, if it was the blond lord . . .

He was Arl Urien’s son all right. Starr recognized him right away as the blond lord. She was reeling from the shock of finding him alive when all thought he was dead. He looked like he had aged more than a decade, maybe evil deeds aged one, she didn’t know. She did know one thing. Now she could face her tormentor. Now she had a name to put to the face. The others were all in front of her, so the blond lord, Vaughan Kendells, hadn’t noticed her yet. She didn’t realize how commanding she sounded when she spoke next, “Leave us.” Her eyes were colder than ice in a mountain cave, a glittery pale grey. Her eyes softened when Alistair put his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him, at the concern on his face, “I have to do this, emma lath,” she whispered. He didn’t like it but nodded his head reluctantly.

“She is right, my friend. She deserves to face this dog and get her own form of closure.” Zevran didn’t necessarily like it; he knew whatever she decided she would suffer for it. However, to take this opportunity away from her now would be like a slap in the face. He and Alistair led the others into the guard’s room where Howe’s body lay.

Once they were there, Elissa and Morrigan whirled on the two men, “Alistair, you and Zevran better have a very good reason for taking us out of there. Explain.”

Alistair thought he would rather face a dozen darkspawn than one angry woman. He wasn’t sure how much to say without breaking Starr’s privacy. He said the simplest thing he could think of, “He’s her Howe.”

Elissa blinked and nodded in understanding, “The cage . . .” she whispered.

“Among other things,” Morrigan added. “He needs to die.” Alistair and Zevran looked at each other in silent understanding. No matter what happened with Starr, Kendells would not be allowed to live for long.

Vaughan watched the beautiful blond woman saunter towards him. Elves were easy, but to get his hands on those curves, well that would be a nice change. Of course, after months in a cell almost any reasonably attractive woman would be a welcome change. He put on what he thought was a pleasant expression, _“The way that bitch is coming towards me I bet we could come to an arrangement. Oooh, I’d love to break her. I might not even share. Howe better not have gotten rid of all my toys.”_ A vision of Starr in one of his special cages floated in front of him and caused his groin to tighten. _“She looks familiar; I wonder if I saw her at the Pearl? No matter, all women are whores. They just need to know their master like any bitch. She thinks she’s going to negotiate, what a joke.”_

_“Bastard thinks he has me. He’ll find out how wrong he is.”_ Starr took off the guard’s chestpiece, noticing how the bastard’s eyes glittered as she was revealed in her Dalish armor. She stretched to give herself a moment to think and then walked to the door of his cell and leaned against it. His eyes tracked her breasts as they pushed against the bars. She reached her arm through and trailed her fingers down his chest, “So, my lord Arl, you’ve been in here for awhile, what can you offer me to let you out?” She pulled her hand back and loosely grasped the bar. _“What am I doing? Toying with him when I should just kill him . . . but I want him to feel a bit like I did. It’ll feel that much sweeter when the blade slides in, won’t it?”_ She lowered her lashes so he wouldn’t see the disgust when he ran his hands up and down the sides of her breasts as much as he was able.

_“This cow is so primed and ready. Her arrogance will make breaking her to my will even sweeter. No, I don’t think I’ll share this one. When she calls me ‘master’ I don’t want any doubt about who she means.”_ He purred at her as he pulled a key out of his pocket, “You look like a clever girl. This key opens a chest in my room; all the gold inside the chest is yours if you let me out.” He eased back a little so she couldn’t reach the key.

Her fingers shook a little as she fumbled with the lock. She was so intent on controlling her nervousness she was taken by surprise when he surged forward and pushed her against the wall. Startled she looked into his eyes and was once again a terrified thirteen-year-old girl who couldn’t move. He reveled at the fear in her eyes and took advantage of her stillness to shove her armor down, freeing her breasts to his avid gaze. He shoved her legs apart with his knee and ground himself against her in promise of what was to come. When his hands started to squeeze her breasts, she came back to herself. Ignoring the grasping hands and thrusting groin, she leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “Don’t you recognize me, _my lord_? The _king’s whore?_ ” He stopped moving and she pushed his hands away. “My son, _Cailan’s_ son is very much alive.” She gloried in the anger and understanding washing over his face. “But you’re not,” she slid the knife into his groin and sliced all the way up to his chest. She knocked him back and watched him fall, whatever emotions she felt hidden from his gaze as she watched him die.

She righted her armor and noticed that one of the laces was broken, making it difficult to tie. Before she put the guard’s uniform back on she ran to an empty cell at the end of the row and was violently ill. She didn’t hear his footsteps as he came running, she only noticed Alistair when he was holding her hair back and providing a supporting arm. Finished, she leaned weakly against him, letting his warmth steal into her. She felt so very, very cold. After several minutes, she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, so full of concern and pain on her behalf. He didn’t say anything, just offered his silent support and comfort. She smiled ever so slightly, “It’s done. Thank you, my love,” she whispered. Nothing more needed to be said. She removed the key from Kendells’ pocket on the way out. Maybe the gold in the chest would help the elves hurt by him.

Anora was ready for them in a guard’s uniform, no doubt provided by Erlina. Starr stayed back; it was hardly a social situation requiring introductions. Howe might have been trying to figure out a way to kill her, but Starr did not believe Anora’s claims of being in danger from her father. There was just something more calculating than fearful in her response. Maybe her own history made it easier to detect that sort of fear in others. Morrigan and Zevran didn’t look like they believed her either.

Apparently, Anora didn’t trust them. They were almost out the door when they encountered Ser Cauthrien and a large group of soldiers waiting for the Wardens. _“How did they know to be here? Nobody from the dungeon had a chance to raise an alarm,”_ Elissa’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she contemplated the situation. “We’re here to rescue Anora, who was being held captive.” She got not further before Anora interrupted and claimed she was being kidnapped. Cauthrien and her men were far more skilled than Howe was and they were fresh. Anora and Erlina slipped away in the confusion of battle and the five companions battled fiercely but were ultimately defeated.

Starr heard a pounding and gradually realized it was the inside of her head. She sat up slowly and looked around; Morrigan and Zevran were doing the same. They didn’t look any better than she felt, “Where’re Stair and Elissa?” She didn’t need their silence to know the Wardens weren’t here; they were alone on the midden heap behind the estate. Her face hardened and she snarled, “That bitch! I swear, if Stair,” she shuddered at the thought, “if Stair dies so does she.” She looked at Zevran, “Do you have any ideas about where they might be, Zev?” She was unaware of how much the hope shone out of her eyes.

It hurt to see the hardness on her face and the hurt in her eyes, “I doubt they are dead, bellissima, I think their bodies would be here in the refuse with us if that were the case.” He spoke quickly before her relief could settle. “More likely they will be taken to Fort Drakon or some such place and tortured. They are both strong and could survive a long time.”

Starr stood up slowly, “You two go back without me and let Eamon know what happened. I need to get back to Marcail. I’ll talk to Sanga; she may know something that can help us. I’ll wait for you at the Pearl. I think it best if I stay away from Bitchqueen or I might not be able to control myself. If she . . .”

“I doubt I’ll be inclined to sit around gossiping with the fool woman who betrayed us,” Morrigan remarked drily. Starr snorted and Zevran smirked in agreement. “Until the Pearl.” Carefully they made their way away from the Arl of Denerim’s estate, avoiding any potentially watching eyes.


	63. Another Rescue

All but Wynne and Shale met Starr in a back room at the Pearl. Oskar was entertaining Marcail in his and Sanga’s private apartment. There was no way for a golem to travel discreetly, much less inconspicuously. They also wanted at least one fighter to remain at Arl Eamon’s. Leliana laughed as she told them that Shale stationed herself outside Anora’s door, occasionally muttering about crushing heads or how fragile humans were. Apparently, Anora and Erlina were quite happy to stay in Anora’s large room rather than come near the angry golem. Meanwhile, Wynne ensconced herself in Anora’s room under the guise of giving comfort and watching for any ill effects from her tenure with Howe. She and Erlina were discussing knitting patterns when Leliana and the others left Eamon’s estate.

“That Wynne, she of the magical bosom, is a wily woman indeed,” Zevran chuckled. “Have you ever noticed, my comely cousin, how easily people talk to her when she is knitting away and looking all grandmotherly?[1] I don’t think even Eamon realizes he has divulged more to her than he would be comfortable with anyone outside the family knowing. It is a good thing indeed she is on our side. But we have more important things to discuss. Anora confirmed that the Wardens were certainly taken to Fort Drakon. And yes, bellissima, she does indeed seem to be more concerned with the fate of our leader than of your templar.” Zevran was actually cheered by the slight sneer gracing the face of his favorite cousin. Much better than hardness or despair.

Starr and Sanga related what they knew and then Sanga left them to discuss the details amongst themselves. The less she knew the better. “I sent for Sanga’s healer. We’ll bring Stair and Elissa to the rooms over the baths. She agreed to wait here in case she was needed. They’ll have clean clothes waiting for them and they can take advantage of a little pampering and sleeping without Anora nearby. Eamon and the queen will just have to wait. I want Stair and Elissa to be reasonably well rested before dealing with either of them. Now, any ideas how to get them back?”

They compared information and discussed their various options, limited as they were. Finally, they agreed their best option was for two people to enter Fort Drakon under some ruse or other and find a way to spirit the Wardens out of the fortress. Once outside two more would meet them to provide cover or just help bring their compatriots back to the Pearl. Garren and Zevran began to speak to Starr at the same time but Garren deferred to Zevran, “Bellissima, do you trust me?”

Starr blinked at the question but there was only one answer, “Of course, Zev.”

 “Bellissima, you are an incredibly beautiful woman,” he took her hands in his and brought her fingers to his lips. “I would die a happy man in your arms snuggled against your magnificent bosom. You are a tall goddess with hair the color of the stars and the moon, you . . .”

One eyebrow rose in bemusement, Starr slightly shook her head, “I get it, Zevran. I don’t blend. I know that. I appreciate the compliment but you don’t need to flatter me.”

“You Fereldans have such a low opinion of yourselves,” Zevran shook his head.

“Humph,” Sten snorted, “the elf is trying to say that yes you are a beautiful woman and a memorable one. I have seen heads turn to follow you as you go past.” The others nodded in agreement.

Morrigan rolled her eyes, “The point is that you can’t go in to Fort Drakon. There’s too much chance of your being identified as a companion of the Wardens. And you don’t want the guards recognizing you later once you are queen.”

Starr shrugged her shoulders, “I wasn’t going in anyway.” At the dumbfounded look on her cousin’s face she explained, “Zevran, Marcail is here in Denerim. I want with every bone in my body to go get Alistair out of that place but I can’t take the chance that both Marcail’s parents might end up there. Not here, not now. I will be one of those outside.”

“I’ll be with you, da’lethallan,” Garren stated. Finally, they decided that Zevran and Leliana were best suited to talk their way into the fortress and make their way to the Wardens. They decided the information that the Colonel in charge of the Fort frequently received ‘personal deliveries’ would provide the basis for their ruse. They agreed that they would also use Morrigan. She would stay with Starr and Garren in the form of a raven so she could periodically scout the area from the skies and act as messenger. Sten and Mithra would stay at the Pearl with Marcail. They made their preparations and were off.

Garren and Starr found an alley wall that gave them a reasonable view of the entrance to Fort Drakon. They wore dingy cloaks to help them blend into background. They knew how to remain still for long periods of time and become part of the landscape. One hour became two; two hours became three. Morrigan flew at irregular intervals and reported back to them. Starr worked to keep her emotions under control, one of the secrets to blending in the shadows was to keep your mind and thoughts quiet in order not to create any disruptive energy. She spent some of the time waiting to see if she could get the attention of the animals near the alley, mostly birds and a cat here and there. She had uneven success at best.

Finally, when she thought they would have to rescue the rescuers, they saw four figures coming out of the fortress. Garren and Starr left the alley as soon as they saw Morrigan’s confirmation. Starr ground her teeth when she saw Alistair. Both Wardens had obviously been tortured but Alistair appeared to have received a good deal more attention. She approached him carefully, not sure where it was safe to touch him. She eased one of the extra cloaks over him, “Lean on me, emma vhenan. A healer is waiting for us at the Pearl and then you and Elissa will be pampered and fed so you can rest. Let Bitchqueen squirm under Shale’s watchful eye some more.”

Alistair tried to smile, “Sounds good, love. Is it wrong of me to find this vengeful side of you rather sexy?” He put his arm over her shoulder. She could support him without it being too obvious or causing him extra pain. They didn’t walk straight to the Pearl in case somebody saw them.

“Alistair, you go see the healer first. You don’t want Marcail to see you like this and you suffered more than I,” Elissa was adamant. Morrigan went with him to add her skills to that of Sanga’s healer. Elissa stopped Starr from going in and looked at her, “Alistair made sure to take all their attention. At first the guards wanted to take me for . . .” she looked away and then back, “well, you know what they wanted. Alistair started mocking them and making stupid jokes. I think they took him away just to shut him up but he’s very strong. He kept them occupied so they didn’t have a chance to, to rape me before Zevran and Leliana came. I’m sorry, Starr.”

Starr smiled weakly, “Every woman’s hero. It’s not your fault. The fault is all in them. It took me a long time to realize that, but it’s true. I’m glad you didn’t have to go through that.” She slipped inside to be with Alistair.

She drew near her husband on the narrow bed. Her eyes traced the lines of a whip and what appeared to be burns on his back. Morrigan looked up, “He had a dislocated jaw and fractured ribs. He’s the only man I know who could still manage to talk like this. We treated those first so he could lie down comfortably while we worked on his back. These injuries are the worst, but we can treat them easily enough. Wynne may wish to look at them later to speed his body’s recovery but nothing was done we cannot fix. He’ll have a few more scars but he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank you both very much,” Starr said fervently. She sat on the floor and leaned her head against the bed so she could look at Alistair and he could look at her without moving. Pain and something more cast shadows in his eyes. Starr brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers before twining them with hers. “Elissa told me what you did, Stair. Every woman’s hero, maybe later Zevran could tattoo that over your scars.”

Alistair tried to smile, “That’s me, alright, but we can skip the tattoo.” His smile faded, “I couldn’t allow Elissa to go through that if I could prevent it, not after . . .” Starr nodded then leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips, ignoring Morrigan’s comments about rabbits. “I was worried you might try to rescue me yourself. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I wish I could have been the one to save you. But, I had to think of Marcail and what would happen if I wasn’t successful. Leliana and Zevran were probably best suited for it anyway.”

“You saved me when we were children and again when you finally admitted you loved me. You gave me family and purpose outside of duty. I’m glad you weren’t inside to hear me scream, but I was very glad to see you waiting for me,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Maybe I’ll make you scream later,” she tried to whisper so only he could hear but knew she was unsuccessful when the healer started cackling.

Alistair’s face turned beet red and Morrigan threw up her hands, “Nauseating! It’s a good thing we’re done or I’d be sick. Get dressed and get out, fools.”

“I’m beginning to think we should find rabbit costumes to wear,” Starr joked as she handed Alistair a robe. “Let’s go see Marcail and then, my fragrant love, you will get Sanga’s Star Treatment. I promise you’ll feel much better.”

Oskar was entertaining Marcail with stories of his old home and teaching him how to play Diamondback. Marcail was laughing too hard to pay attention. When he saw Alistair and Starr he jumped up, dropping his cards, and ran towards them. “Mom, Dad, you’re back.” When he got closer he stopped and frowned, “Geeze, Dad, you stink. Mom said you were delayed and she was going to get you. Were you in the sewers? What’s it like? If you don’t want to do kissy face stuff with Mom anymore, just tell her. Do you know how to play Diamondback?”

Alistair scratched his head, “Well, umm, let’s see. Yes, I need a bath and will be taking one soon. I wasn’t stuck in the sewers but another nasty place and I’m glad your cousin Zevran and your mom helped get me out. I don’t recommend going there. I like doing kissy face stuff with your mom and I don’t know how to play Diamondback. Well, sort of. I am not very good at it. I just wanted to come see you before I go wash up. If you like stories, you should talk to Leliana, she knows some good ones. Why don’t you show me what you know?”

Oskar laughed heartily, “We play for raissins, but boy keeps eating them and then can’t bet. We never get past first round. Come, young Marcail, let uss show your father what you know.”

Starr watched them all for a few minutes, “Stair, I’ll go make sure everything’s ready.  Give me ten minutes. That might give you enough time to learn more about Diamondback.” She left, shaking her head at the thought of her son learning how to gamble. Maybe it would be good practice for politics.

When Alistair joined her in the deluxe Star Treatment room, he caught his breath. He didn’t feel his aches and pains as he looked at her. She was so beautiful in a shimmering red robe, a red as deep as the rose around her neck. Her lips were the same color looking lush and ripe. Whatever she had done to her eyes framed them and made them brighter than usual. She was sensuous as a goddess and he considered himself completely unworthy and luckier than any man deserved. “You are so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I know. I think I’m used to it and then I look at you, like now, and it almost hurts as I’m dazzled all over again.”

Starr glided over to him, the loose robe gently rippling over her curves, “Whenever you look at me I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, special, loved, and treasured. Come my love, my lord, this is your time to be pampered and adored.” She removed his robe and led him to the rinsing station. “First you must rinse off any dirt and grime so that you can more completely relax in the bath.” While he did so, she selected various oils and bath salts he might like and half filled the bath with hot water. “Would my lord prefer his manicure and pedicure before his bath or afterwards?”

“Before, I think.” Alistair considered his wife, “You are in a strange mood, love.”

She looked at him with some surprise, “You were taken prisoner and tortured, Stair. I couldn’t prevent it from happening and I was so worried for you. At the very least, you deserve to be pampered and I want to do this for you. Let me serve you in this, my love. You have done so much for me.”

“Since I don’t want Zevran to call me all sorts of a fool for refusing the services of a gorgeous woman, I graciously accept,” Alistair responded with a smile. “But first,” he cupped her face in his hands and tenderly kissed her. He allowed himself to be led to the very comfortable looking chair. He watched as she brought him a goblet of warm spiced wine. He closed his eyes in pleasure as the delicious liquid soothed his throat. He leaned back as Starr began with his feet. He was so tired. Now all were safe and he could relax for at least a little while. He drifted, not quite asleep but in between waking and sleeping. Time had no meaning as he sipped his wine and let his thoughts drift.

When he opened his eyes again Starr was smiling at him, her eyes dancing with amusement, “Are you awake enough to bathe, my lord? You’ve had a nice nap. While you were asleep I took the liberty of choosing bath salts and oils, I think you’ll like the scent.” She pulled him to his feet and savored his nearness when he slipped his arm around her. She knew he was feeling better when his hand slipped down and caressed her bottom.

He groaned in pleasure when he sank into the hot water. His muscles practically shouted in joy when they were surrounded by the wet heat. His nostrils twitched at the scent Starr chose, he liked it very much. It was very clean and made him think of pine trees and sea breezes. “What scent did you choose, Starr? It’s great. Relaxing, clean, yet kind of clears the mind.”

Starr was in the process of settling his head and neck so she could wash his hair while he relaxed. She smiled, “It’s called ‘Ocean Pine,’ I didn’t think you’d want anything fussy.” She smiled and poured some shampoo into her hand. “Lean back just here, it’s padded, and I’ll wash your hair. You don’t need to do anything else.” She kissed his forehead once he did so and began slowly lathering his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Mmmm, maybe when I’m king I should have a personal hair washer. In fact, if they don’t have a set up like this at the palace I’ll send the seneschal over to take notes. We can pay Sanga a consulting fee,” he murmured.

She narrowed her eyes at him but replied sweetly, “That sounds like a lovely idea. I wouldn’t mind having a handsome man washing my hair for me. He’ll have to be strong since there’s so much of it and will take a long time to ‘wash’ it thoroughly.” She rinsed his head while he sputtered at the thought of some other man touching her.

“Well, perhaps we should just have a bathing chamber without personal hair washers,” he decided. She hummed and puttered around the room while he went back to relaxing until the water cooled.

Starr brought a large heated towel and wrapped it around him when he stepped out. She stopped him when he started to wrap his arms around her, “Not yet. There’s still the massage, come lie down, my lord.”

Alistair looked around suspiciously, “Zevran isn’t going to pop in once I’m lying down, is he? He keeps threatening to give me one of his ‘specials.’”

“I locked the door, it’s just you and me,” she snickered. “Now lie down and relax. Starr began massaging the oil into his shoulders, kneading the muscles with firm hands and causing him to relax even further. After a few minutes, she began alternating the massage with whisper soft kisses. He moaned as she worked the muscles and again when she kissed him. Finally, he turned over.

“Maker’s breath,” he whispered when he saw her. One of these days the woman was going to kill him, thankfully not today. She had slipped off the robe and was wearing a garment similar to their wedding night. It was rose red instead of white and sheer fabric replaced the lace. She was a flame designed to warm a man’s heart and his spirit. The sight of those full red lips just barely touching him nearly brought him over. Her hands slid over his chest. His tip brushed against her as she moved. When she reached his shoulders, he couldn’t stand the bittersweet tension anymore and he grabbed her hips and brought her down until he was fully surrounded by her heat.

She buried her face into his neck hiding sudden tears even as she breathed him in. His own unique scent mixed with the oils and lotions. “I love you so much, emma lath, emma vhenan.”

“Emma sa’lath,” he whispered back before grabbing her hair and pulling it back so he could ravage her mouth. For just a moment, he stared at the picture she made, the spill of ruby and silver, the desire burning in her eyes, the parted lips. Her garment had shifted so her nipples were fully visible and erect. He took everything she offered and more, neither held anything back.

 

[1] Yes, this is a nod to Agatha Christie’s famous Miss Marple. I have enjoyed reading and rereading her mysteries over the years.


	64. Trouble from Tevinter

Rested and refreshed, Elissa and Alistair returned to Eamon’s estate. Starr said she had some things to do but was planning on going to the Alienage with Garren and Mithra. Late the previous night, long after Marcail was asleep, Alistair woke up to an empty bed. He found Starr in Sanga’s front room with the stuff they grabbed from Vaughan’s chest. In addition to over forty sovereigns was a bag of rings, lockets and other inexpensive jewelry tied together with a blue jeweled hair ribbon. It was the hair ribbon Teagan gave to her; she had been wearing it when she and Vionna were taken. Including Vionna’s locket, there were over fifty pieces of jewelry.

_“Maker,”_ Alistair breathed, sick. _“Why did the Maker bother with darkspawn? We’re more than capable of making our own monsters. It scares me even now to think my Starr was ever in his hands. Maker forgive me, but I’m glad the bastard is dead. I wish he could have suffered more.”_ He was glad she agreed to meet at the Gnawed Noble Tavern before going into the Alienage. He didn’t know what their plans would be later, but they should at least know each other’s schedule. It was, as Starr said, so married. And that was fine with him. _“And now I’m getting ready to face Anora. I’d rather be with Starr being fitted for clothes. Oh well, I’ll let Elissa take the lead. The less interaction I have with Anora the better.”_ While he was brooding, Zevran came up to him.

“Why are you brooding so, oh handsome templar? I noticed you and the celestial Starr were rather quiet this morning. Were you not ‘well pampered’ yesterday?” he asked slyly.

“Ha! You just want details. Not happening,” he responded, amused. Then he sobered and motioned the elf over to the side. “Zev, as you know she plans on going into the Alienage today. Last night she wanted to see just how much we brought from Kendells’ chest. It was more than she imagined.”

“That is a good thing, is it not?”

Alistair answered with another question, “Do you remember the story about Isolde’s hair ribbons?” He waited for Zevran’s nod. “She was wearing that ribbon when she and her friend were taken. She found the ribbon, a locket belonging to Vionna and about fifty other ‘mementos.’ She’s going to ask the Hahren if he recognizes any of them. I don’t want her to be alone; this is going to be very hard for her.”

“Ah, I see. She is a very strong woman, my friend. I, too, hate the thought of the pain she will undoubtedly be going through soon. All either of us can do is to be supportive and offer comfort, if that is what she needs. I will also say that I have never rejoiced over one man’s death more than this one.”

“I know, Zevran, I agree. Hopefully I can go with her . . . but,” he said as they reached the front of the estate, “now it’s time to face Loghain’s daughter and see what she has to say for herself.”

Elissa joined them, “Alistair, could we talk a moment?” she waited until Zevran stepped away. “I think we should let Anora and Loghain continue to underestimate you. We need the advantage. Try not to look angry with her, keep your expression as blank as possible and hang back. I’ll try to keep her attention focused on me and act as liaison. My parents knew her, so that might give me a little more, hmm, let’s say room to build relations. What do you think?”

“I agree. You are wa-ay more diplomatic than I am. I’ll watch and play the follower, like I did right after Ostagar. It’s an advantage I won’t have for long.”

Elissa smiled at her friend, “You’re a far different, and better, man than you were then. Ready?”

“Ready.” And that’s how they entered the estate, Elissa in front and Alistair bringing up the rear. There was quite a commotion when they made their appearance. Wynne insisted on doing a quick check before they talked to Eamon and Anora. She sent some healing energy through them to speed up the work already done and pronounced them fit. Even Shale said it was nice to see it and the other Warden. That guarding the fancy it was mostly boring except when it flinched at descriptions of head crushing.

Anora _professed_ she was pleased to see they were all right. Eamon _was_ pleased. Alistair was as good as his word and stayed in the background, letting Elissa do all the talking. He forced himself to stay calm when Anora spoke about trouble in the Alienage; he was glad Starr agreed to wait until they met at the Gnawed before going to see the elves. There was no way she was going without him. Anora left, asking the Warden to come speak to her soon. Alistair continued to listen as Elissa questioned Eamon about Loghain and Anora. When Elissa suggested that Alistair marry Anora he couldn’t help exclaiming, “What?! Are you joking? Just pretend I’m not here.” He wasn’t mollified when Eamon said such a compromise would be well received by the Landsmeet, though some accommodation would have to be made about Marcail.  Alistair gritted his teeth and said nothing more.

While Elissa spoke to Anora, Alistair found Riordan. Riordan knew Duncan for many years and Alistair gained some insight into the man who recruited him as well as welcome information about a Grey Warden vault in the Market District. Elissa returned just in time to hear Alistair ask about the Grey Wardens who killed the Archdemon in previous Blights. Riordan seemed surprised by the question but didn’t have a chance to answer before the two younger Wardens left. Elissa and Alistair separated from their companions to go to the vault. Once they were alone in the vault, Alistair crossed his arms and looked at his comrade, “Alright, what do you want to tell me?”

Elissa frowned; she knew he wouldn’t like what she had to say. She decided to spit it out, “I told Anora I would talk to you about a marriage between the two of you.” She was surprised Alistair wasn’t pitching a fit. Instead, he stood there, unmoving with one eyebrow raised as he waited for her to continue. She hurriedly continued, “Obviously that won’t happen, but she thinks I’ll support her if she marries you.”

“Do you think she’ll be a better ruler?” he asked nonchalantly.

Surprised, she stuttered, “O-of course not! Alistair, you know I have complete faith in you. And I happen to think you and Starr will be perfect for Ferelden. I just, I just didn’t want to give her a reason to move against us. I’m sure she has a dozen backup plans, but the less time to implement them the better. Alistair, she may be a good administrator, but she’s too remote. I don’t think she’s unfeeling, exactly, but I think it’s too easy for her to not see the people in her subjects.  Logic is good, but not at the expense of the soul.”

Alistair nodded thoughtfully, “I had to ask. I know I’m prejudiced and I’ve always valued your opinion. Not that I would consider marriage with her,” he hastened to add. “Even if I didn’t love Starr with every fiber of my being, Zevran would kill me for hurting her,” he spoke only half in jest. They both knew Zevran would indeed consider killing Alistair for hurting Starr like that, even though they were friends his first loyalty would always be to Starr. “Nor do I have any plans of stepping aside, but I wanted to know what you think. I will have to do _something_ about her, assuming we’re successful. At the Landsmeet, if we win, just make sure she doesn’t say anything about marriage, we should avoid embarrassing her. And I don’t want to face Starr if that happens. My courage isn’t limitless, you know. _You_ will need to act surprised when I introduce Starr and Marcail. There’s no need for Anora to be mad at you as well, she’s bound to have a lot of allies who might act against you.”

Once again, Alistair surprised her. “That’s unusually devious and subtle of you, Alistair. You’re going to be a good king.”

“I guess I learned more from Eamon than I thought. I’ve also paid attention to you, Zevran and Leliana. I don’t like it, but if it means Marcail and Starr are safe I’ll do it. Let’s see what’s here, and then join the others.”

They found Starr in the back room. She was looking a bit disgruntled. Garren was taking in the atmosphere of the tavern and Mithra seemed a bit bemused. If anybody came too close to Starr, they got a glare from both of the Dalish. They both looked relieved when the others showed up. Leliana immediately asked Starr how her fittings went and was surprised when Mithra giggled. Garren looked acutely uncomfortable. Understanding dawned, but wisely, Leliana said nothing. They ordered food while waiting for the Wardens. Starr was feeling a bit peckish herself. Elissa and Alistair arrived in time for the food.

Starr frowned when Elissa said they needed to investigate the Alienage. It never boded well for the elves when a lot of attention was drawn there. After Elissa told them everything they knew, she looked to Starr. “Starr, you know the elves here best. What do you suggest?”

“Even though the Alienage is in the middle of humans, they are generally no more welcoming to them than your clan, Mithra. They are more careful about it since most don’t have any training with weapons. Definitely, I think Garren and Mithra should go with me as we planned. I need to see Hahren Valendrian in any case. He knows me and might be able to give us some more information. Zevran should go, and Shale. I’m already assuming both of you will go.” Alistair and Elissa concurred. “If Soris is still living with his uncle then that should be our first stop. His house is near this end of the Alienage.”

“Basically the group who goes in should be light on non-elves. Then I’d like Oghren, Wynne and Leliana to stay with Marcail. They can go back to the house, maybe Oghren could pose as a stonemason. Everybody has heard of the incredible skill of the dwarves from Orzammar. It would make sense for Sanga and Oskar to have their house examined before too much work was done. Sten can ‘guard’ Anora and her maid. Morrigan . . .” Alistair hesitated at this point.

“Yes? What would you have of me?” Morrigan demanded.

“I think you should come with us,” he finally decided. “We may need a mage’s insight once we find out what’s happening.”

Decisions made, they broke up shortly thereafter to go their respective ways. Oghren grumbled until Alistair mentioned that he and Oskar could finish teaching Marcail how to play Diamondback. Starr shook her head but didn’t say anything. The thought did cross her mind that ‘boys will be boys.’

When they reached the Alienage, Garren and Mithra were appalled at the conditions they saw. Shale said she was glad she didn’t have the ability to smell. Mithra turned to Starr, “Is this truly how they live? Why do they not do something?”

“The Alienage in Highever isn’t like this. Well, it wasn’t when my father ruled. I suppose it suffered under Howe along with everything else,” Elissa interjected.

“It’s true the elves here are generally quite poor, but the streets look worse than the insides of most of the homes. They don’t have much control over what happens here and it wasn’t a good idea to draw the attention of the Arl. Look too prosperous or too proud and he might just decide something was going on and send his soldiers in to ‘investigate.’” As they approached the house where Soris lived with his uncle Cyrion, they noticed a bunch of elves attacking a human taking a shortcut. The elves ran off as soon as they saw a well-armed group drawing near.

“Thank you. Bloody knife-ears, I knew I shouldn’t have come here,” the angry man sputtered in indignation.

Starr eyed the man coldly. “The correct term is elf. If you are ignorant enough to use such a derogatory term and come through here then perhaps you deserve the beating. Leave. Now.” The man looked like he might argue, but wisely decided to scurry away.

“Bellissima, I hope you never have cause to use that tone on me. Shivers quite ran up and down my spine. You are indeed a beautiful, dangerous sex goddess,” Zevran declared with a hand on his heart. Starr just snorted and continued on.

Starr knocked on the door of Cyrion’s house. It opened a crack and then all the way when Soris recognized her. “Come in, friends, come in. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you except water; things are a bit disorganized without Uncle Cyrion around. Sit down. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you; we thought you were dead. Like Vionna.”

Starr put her hands over his, “I very nearly was. If it weren’t for some wolves and the Dalish, I would have been. But as you can see, I’m fine now. I’m even married and have a son,” and she introduced everybody to Soris. “Soris was always very nice to me when I came here with Vionna.”

“Soris, why were you in the dungeon? Where is your uncle, and how is Vionna’s family?” Starr’s questions practically stumbled over each other.

Soris’s face clouded over. “Vionna’s family moved to Amaranthine. Her mother has cousins there. Starr, they blamed you for Vionna’s death, they said if she hadn’t been friends with a human then she would be alive today. I don’t think they really believed it, they just needed a target.”

“We were taken by Vaughan Kendells. He’s dead now; would you believe we found him in a cell not far from you? Howe put him in there and blamed his death on the elven revolt. I, I found something else. Vionna’s locket. He kept souvenirs of his victims. I wanted to talk to Hahren Valendrian about returning them, assuming he recognizes them.”

“Vaughan Kendells in a cell? And dead? That news will make a lot of people happy. Uh, a lot has happened while you were gone. Vaughan got bold about coming here whenever he wanted ‘entertainment.’ His father was gone a lot and never did anything to stop him. Nobody dared tell the king, not as long as Arl Urien had authority over the Alienage. Even on my and Kallian’s wedding day. He kidnapped all the women in the bridal party. Bastard!” Soris turned his head to compose himself. “Nelaros, Kallian’s groom, and I tried to rescue them only Nelaros was killed and I ended up in the dungeon. Kallian disappeared and Shionni doesn’t talk about it but I can guess. I missed at least one purge while in that cell, and the beginnings of the plague. Tevinter mages are here doing some magic to prevent it. They took Cyrion and Valendrian into quarantine. Shionni thinks there is something wrong with the whole set up, and she may be right. I know you two never got along, but could you talk to her?”

“One of the reasons we are all here is that we understood there was trouble. Of course we’ll talk to Shionni. Is there anybody else we can talk to?” Starr asked hopefully. Soris shook his head and tried to hide a smile. Shionni was a child then but that didn’t stop her from disapproving of Starr’s presence in the Alienage.

Once they were outside Elissa turned to Morrigan, “Morrigan, can you think of any magic the Tevinters could use against the plague, especially the Blight plague?”

“I admit I am rather suspicious. Wynne, of course, has more healing knowledge than I, but I think if she knew of something like this, she would have said. After all, whether it is the Blight plague or not, conditions are ripe for some sort of disease. And the Tevinters are not known for their generosity,” Morrigan’s brow furrowed. “We should be careful.”

On that, everybody agreed. They found Shionni haranguing elves in a line for the ‘Tevinter cure,’ trying to get them to leave.” When Starr and the others showed up Shionni turned on them angrily, “Come for a show . . . well, well. Starrelena Feyorlin, I didn’t believe Soris when he said you were back. What are _you_ doing here?”

Starr sighed, “And good day to you, Shionni. We heard there was trouble and we’re here to help. I’m sorry to hear about the plague, but I don’t understand what the Tevinters are doing here. Are they really helping?” Starr’s dubious expression actually calmed Shionni. At last, _somebody_ was willing to listen. She explained everything she knew and suspected. Starr grew more and more concerned.  She promised they would investigate.

Shionni was right to be upset. Loghain had contracted to sell elves to Tevinter slavers. They killed all the slavers but unfortunately, they had already shipped off some of those they captured.  At least Hahren Valendrian was still in Denerim, which would help calm the elves remaining in the Alienage.

“Is, it is, it’s young Starrelena Feyorlin. And all grown up into a lovely young woman. When we found Vionna, I feared you were lost as well. I am glad to see it’s not so,” Valendrian smiled tiredly at her when she automatically offered her arm for him to lean on just as she did when she was a girl. “What brings you back to the Alienage?”

On the way back to Valendrian’s modest home Starr briefly explained why they were here. Once inside she made sure he was comfortable. Then she sat back as Elissa explained more fully what they were doing, and asked if he had any further information. They learned that a templar had been looking for signs of maleficar, or had been prior to Valendrian’s quarantine. Perhaps that was part of the trouble as well. Elissa promised they would look into it and then she and the others left Starr alone with the Hahren.

It was nearly an hour later when Starr came out of Valendrian’s house. Zevran and Garren were waiting for her; the others had gone to speak to the templar. If demons were truly somewhere about the Alienage, then Alistair was needed, Morrigan’s snarky comments to the contrary. Zevran noticed that his cousin's eyes were red from crying, but she appeared to be at peace so he said nothing. “Come, bellissima, let us go catch up to your templar and find some demons. Too bad we couldn’t feed them some fat slavers, eh?”

The old templar was partly right. There weren’t any maleficarum, but there were demons. The Veil was probably damaged when Howe conducted his purge and killed so many of the children in the orphanage. The demons were sent back but not before their leader killed Ser Otto. On their way out of the Alienage, they passed Shionni who actually apologized for her previous outbursts. Now all they had to do was notify Eamon and get ready for the Landsmeet in two days time.


	65. The Day of the Landsmeet

It was a beautiful, crisp day that nobody noticed through the tension inundating the city of Denerim. The previous day Alistair spent most of his time with Starr and Marcail. Elissa came over and they finalized strategy. Looking at the doors to the Palace and the Landsmeet Alistair had to take a deep breath to fight sudden nervousness. _“Maker, I hope we’re doing the right thing. How can I be king?”_ He looked behind them to the little establishment where Starr and Marcail were waiting for Zevran to come get them once Elissa and Alistair joined the Landsmeet. _“But this isn’t about me, not really.”_ Straightening his shoulders, he looked at his fellow warden, “Let’s go.”

Elissa nodded, “You’ll be a good king, Alistair. And Marcail will have a good teacher. Now we just need to get your ass on the throne.”

“Have I ever told you how much I admire your eloquence and way with words?” Alistair replied laughing and opened the door to be met once again by Ser Cauthrien. This time they prevailed easily. Alistair had some regret over the loss of such a good soldier but put it aside. They entered as Arl Eamon was finishing his address to the other nobles of the Landsmeet. Favorable rumblings and scattered applause were interrupted by sarcastic clapping. Loghain had arrived. For somebody who professed to hate politics he certainly knew how to make an entrance. Alistair admitted in a deep corner of his mind he actually admired that ability and hoped to be half so impressive.

Alistair could see some of the Bannorn being swayed by Loghain’s words. Then Elissa began speaking. The Bannorn were outraged by his collaboration with Tevinter slavers. His explanation that the Alienage was too damaged, too lost and couldn’t be saved did not sit well. Somebody shouted out asking if he planned on selling off refugees from Lothering and other parts of Ferelden that had been overcome by the Blight. Loghain’s eyes glittered but he didn’t respond. His replies to the charges of poisoning Eamon and letting Howe torture citizens were equally arrogant or delusional. Even so, Alistair didn’t have a sense that the Bannorn were leaning definitely one way or the other.

Anora’s sense of timing was even better than her father’s. Just as he was demanding to know what the Wardens had done with his daughter, she appeared near the throne, inciting gasps among those present. “Ladies and gentlemen, my father is no longer the Hero of River Dane. Indeed, if not for these Wardens I would surely be dead.” After that, there was overwhelming support for the Grey Wardens. With Anora’s first words, Zevran knew the crowd was with them and he went to stand by the door so he could quickly usher in Starr and Marcail from the anteroom once Alistair was declared king.

Starr stared at the door that would admit them to the Landsmeet. Today was going to be a big change for all of them. She had never planned on Marcail being king one day; though once she made the decision to let Cailan know he had a son, she knew it was a possibility. Her primary concern had always been to keep him safe and give him a good home, be a good mother. She hoped that all of the changes he was about to face wouldn’t overwhelm him, or at least not for long.

Marcail looked up at his mother. He didn’t want to admit he was scared to become a prince. He knew it meant it would never be just the three of them and that he would have to share his mom and dad with all of Ferelden. Seeing the love and worry in her eyes steadied him. He slipped his hand in hers and gave her a tremulous smile. This was something he realized would never change, his mother would always love him and always worry about him and he took comfort in that.

Starr smiled back at him as if she could read his thoughts, “I love you and your father loves you. Remember that. We will all have to make a lot of changes, but the important thing is that we are family.”

Starr thought she heard fighting. She readied herself to defend them if need be. Oddly, what flitted across her mind was how much she appreciated her new clothes. They fit and moved well, the armor created by Master Wade was superb and Nirelle’s design flattered her. She had never felt so elegant except on her wedding day. Nervously she and Marcail waited for the door to open. It seemed like a lifetime before it did and Zevran was motioning them inside. Alistair was just accepting the throne.

“Lords and ladies of the Bannorn, you do me great honor and I am humbled by the confidence you place in me today. I never knew my father, King Maric, but from all I have heard he loved this land and her people. As did my brother, King Cailan and as do I. That one of my first acts as king is to deal with the traitor Loghain would surely bring grief to Maric if he knew. Loghain Mac Tir step forward.” He waited until Loghain knelt before him. “You betrayed your king and your country. You betrayed the man you called ‘brother’ and your actions left our country in a weakened state as we prepare to face an enemy greater than any you can imagine. You deserve a traitor’s death and I desire nothing more than to give it to you.”

Alistair paused and the room was still as they waited for him to lift his sword. Alistair’s expression was harsh as he looked down on the man whose actions wreaked such havoc and he knew a part of him would always regret the decision he was about to announce. “Loghain Mac Tir you are hereby stripped of all titles and properties. The Teyrnir of Gwaren shall be awarded to one more deserving and more capable of being its steward. Your actions at Ostagar not only decimated the army but also the Grey Wardens, the only ones who can truly defeat the Archdemon. Death may be what you deserve, but we recognize that once you were a great warrior and of great service to Ferelden and these are not normal circumstances. Thankfully, we do not face a Blight very often. Riordan of the Grey Wardens will induct you into the Order. Should you survive the Blight you will retain your life albeit in service to the Grey Wardens. Elsewhere. You will never again be allowed within these borders nor will you be recognized as a citizen of Ferelden. Should you endeavor to step foot on Ferelden soil you will invoke your death sentence. Do you understand?” For a moment, Alistair thought he felt Duncan looking on in approval as he waited for Loghain’s response.

“I understand . . . Your Majesty,” Loghain finally said. Alistair motioned to Riordan and the guards and he was escorted away. The Bannorn let out a collective sigh. Most did not want to see the former Hero of River Dane executed. It was a harsh sentence and would tear at Loghain as long as he lived. Some thought death would be preferable to the warrior and that the punishment fit. Others felt Alistair was being too merciful, but allowed that he might be right; another skilled fighter against the darkspawn would not come amiss. Their attention focused once more on Alistair when he began speaking again.

Alistair was smiling, “And now I want to introduce to you my heir, Marcail Alistair Theirin.” He turned and watched with pride as Starr and Marcail came towards him. _“He is so confident. Or if not he’s certainly hiding it well. And Starr is so beautiful, she looks positively regal.”_ Noting some of the looks directed her way he mentally smirked, _“Won’t they be disappointed.”_ When Marcail was standing next to him he smiled down at him. “Marcail, these are the lords and ladies of the Bannorn.”

Marcail looked around with wide eyes and then he smiled and waved at all those people staring at him, causing many to smile back at him. When he turned back to Alistair and said, in a loud whisper, “Was that alright, Dad?” they were charmed by the obvious affection between the two as they grinned at each other. The resemblance to Maric and Cailan was strong. He slipped his hand into Alistair’s waiting one and stood proudly next to him. One woman was not charmed. Elissa could sense Anora stiffening slightly next to her. She smiled slightly and stayed relaxed.

“And this amazing woman with my son was at Ostagar serving her country. I present to you Marcail’s mother, my best friend and, to my great fortune, my wife Starrelena Feyorlin Theirin.” Eamon struggled to hide his surprise and anger at being surprised. Fortunately for Elissa, Anora’s attention was on Eamon and by the time she looked at Elissa, the Warden was able to shrug with some conviction.

Before Alistair could speak again, Eamon took the opportunity to remind Alistair that he had something else to take care of. “Your Majesty, we cannot afford to be divided again. Anora must swear fealty to you and yours.”

Anora snorted, “If you think I’m going to do that, Eamon then I can only tell you that you are quite mistaken.”

“You will have to do something about her, Alistair.”

Alistair looked at the woman who was Cailan’s wife. He knew she felt insulted and he supposed he couldn’t blame her. Perhaps once she cooled down she would reconsider. “Take her to the Tower for now, until our investigation into her involvement is complete.” Turning away from her Alistair faced the Bannorn once more. “I swore an oath to defeat the Blight. I cannot foreswear that oath even to be king. I ask that Arl Eamon and Queen Starrelena act as co-regents in my absence until the Archdemon is defeated or Marcail comes of age.” The moment they agreed, he turned to Elissa, “My fellow Warden, I ask you to take the position as general leading my armies.”

Elissa stepped forward, relieved to be away from the silently fuming Anora. “I would be honored, Your Majesty.” She moved to stand beside Eamon. “For Cailan!”

Alistair stared round at all the nobles, fire in his eye, “Gather your armies. We’re off to war!” Cheers resounded throughout the Landsmeet. Everybody was relieved that the civil war was over and they could unite against the darkspawn at last. And that the succession was assured.


	66. The Landsmeet is over and Now it’s Time for War

The three Wardens were preparing for the Joining. Alistair and Elissa were learning how to prepare the draught for future recruits. Even though Alistair was going to be leaving the Grey Wardens, it was only prudent they both know how it was done. For Loghain they were combining the small amounts preserved in their amulets. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it should be just enough for their purposes. All the companions were waiting in a small dining room with Loghain and Anora together in a small alcove. Starr insisted they be allowed some time together before the Joining. She told the guards that they could wait just outside the doors. Eamon had already left for Redcliffe where the Wardens’ allies were gathering.

Marcail wandered from where his mother was discussing clothes with Leliana and Wynne. He stood where he could watch Loghain and Anora. They weren’t talking much. He didn’t really understand this Joining his father talked about and didn’t really care. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of this man being with his father. He didn’t trust him.

For his part, Loghain had been aware of the young boy watching them with wary suspicion. It was Alistair’s son. He hadn’t expected that although he supposed that explained the sense of recognition. He didn’t think any Theirin was capable of keeping such a secret. Anora and he watched the boy come closer. It was like seeing Cailan at that age once more. Only Cailan never stood there in front of him, arms crossed and a pugnacious tilt to his chin as he stared at Loghain with his dark blue eyes, dark blue like his mother. Except this wasn’t Cailan and his mother wasn’t Rowan. He examined the boy more closely.

“You hurt my dad,” Marcail stated baldly. “You also hurt my mom and a lot of other people but mostly my dad. Well, I guess you hurt my uncle even more since he’s dead but I didn’t know him. I wish I did but,” he shrugged at the impossibility but it obviously bothered him. Loghain actually had to fight the urge to squirm under the reproach in the boy’s eyes. Anora was watching closely. “You hurt my dad and tried to kill him. Why?” He said nothing else, just stood there waiting for an answer.

Loghain had never had trouble staring anyone down. Grown men had been reduced to incoherent blobs under the force of his gaze but try as he would he couldn’t break this boy. Maybe because he was seeing Rowan in those eyes and he had never wanted to see _her_ looking at him like that. Once he saw Rowan, he remembered that Maric sometimes had that same stubborn tilt to his head when he wanted something. The ghosts of his old friends became more real to him than the boy standing in front of him. For the first time the magnitude and reality of his actions started to break through the aura of hate and prejudice he had allowed to dictate much of his actions instead of his prized objectivity. Marcail was still waiting for an answer. Loghain said the only thing he could, “I don’t know anymore. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. I was wrong.”

Anora had never heard her father admit he was wrong about anything. Ever. He had never overtly apologized to anyone, even her mother. He bought her new rosebushes when he destroyed the old ones, but never said the words. Like her father, she saw Cailan and not Alistair when she looked at Marcail. It was those blue eyes. She wondered . . .

“Are you going to try to hurt him again?” The words interrupted Anora’s thoughts. Nobody pinned her father down and yet here was this child doing just that. Maybe it was because he was a child and didn’t weigh his thoughts twenty times like the nobles she was used to. One of the things she missed about Cailan was the way he sometimes spoke when they were alone, not deliberating, just saying what he thought. He hadn’t done that for a long time before Ostagar. She looked at her father to see how he would answer.

“Humph,” Loghain snorted, “no. I lost. I will help the Grey Wardens and then leave Ferelden.” Having used up his quota of words for the day, he sat back into a brooding silence. Marcail didn’t look convinced but he was smart enough to realize he wouldn’t get any more out of him.

Oghren came swaggering toward them, “Don’t worry kid, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything to your dad.” He belched for emphasis and put his arm over Marcail’s shoulders. “Now, let’s go play some Diamondback. I don’t know how you won last time but I want payback,” he groused good-naturedly.

Marcail started laughing and giggling, “That’s, that’s 'cause I was eating your raisins when you weren’t looking.” He quickly slipped away from the now sputtering dwarf and ran to the other end of the room. Oghren hurried after him, calling him a tricky nug duster.

Anora sat there transfixed, _“That laugh, that’s Cailan’s laugh . . . the blue eyes. Marcail isn’t Alistair’s son, he’s_ Cailan’s _son. How, when, I wonder if Cailan knew? He couldn’t have. Cailan couldn’t keep a secret from me if his life depended on it.”_ She continued to sit there, wondering about the children they didn’t have. While her father was contemplating ghosts from the past, she considered the ghosts that never were.

It was time. Loghain went with Riordan. Starr sat down next to Anora. “He’ll be out for a short time afterwards. You can stay with him if you like.” She didn’t like Anora but this might be the last time she saw her father. She couldn’t deny her the opportunity to be with him for the short time available.

“That is . . . very considerate of you.” Marcail would be the next king of Ferelden and in a way, put things back the way they should be. She looked over at the boy playing with the dwarf. She had much to think about while she sat with her father.

The Joining was successful. While Loghain recovered with Anora and Elissa watching over him, Alistair spent that time with his family. Everything that could be arranged had been, and not even Morrigan had anything to say as they all readied themselves for finally going to war against the darkspawn. When Loghain was ready, Seneschal Gerod went to the new royal family and informed them. Marcail led the way while Alistair and Starr followed holding hands. For somebody about to be separated from the people he loved, Alistair seemed surprisingly happy. Before joining the others, he turned to Starr and tenderly brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Take care of yourself and Marcail, emma lath. You have made me so very happy,” he whispered before kissing her slowly and gently. She leaned into him, her hand on his chest.

Loghain, watching this display, snorted. If Alistair heard, he ignored him. Instead, he knelt down in front of Marcail, “I’m going to miss you. Take care of your mother while I’m gone, alright?” Marcail nodded his head vigorously. Alistair held out his hand to shake man to man, when Marcail took it he continued, “I couldn’t have a better son, you make me very proud. Seneschal Gerod will help you and your mom get settled and answer any questions about the palace. Cailan said he knew all the stories, maybe when I come back we can convince him to tell us a few.” He pulled Marcail into a hug and looked at the Seneschal.

Gerod was touched. Proudly he answered, “It would be my privilege, Your Majesty. We will all look forward to your safe return. I am proud to serve your family.”

“You can count on me, Dad. You need to concentrate on not getting eaten.” Marcail said in all seriousness. Starr bit her lip in order not to offend his young dignity. “Senschal Gerod, Zevran and I will take care of Mom, not to worry.” He stepped back and pumped Alistair’s hand up and down with a lot of enthusiasm. He was trying very hard not to cry or pout.

Alistair smiled at the seneschal and let go of Marcail’s hand so he could join the others. Marcail went back to his mother and took her hand in a protective manner. Alistair rubbed his hands together, “Now, let’s go kick some darkspawn ass!”

“Alistair Theirin!” Starr exclaimed. He just winked at Marcail who was laughing heartily.

Loghain looked at the young man balefully, “Another Cailan,” he muttered to himself. He fell into step beside Riordan and Sten. He noticed that the Antivan, the redhead and the golem were staying behind along with some of Eamon’s soldiers. He approved of Alistair not trusting his family to strangers, although he wasn’t sure about the wisdom of trusting the first two. Over the next several days, he observed Alistair and his new companions carefully. They were a strange group. Even during the war, he hadn’t traveled with such an unusual collection of individuals. _“A witch, a dwarf and a Qunari . . . sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, one that Cailan liked to tell.”_ He was forced to admit that Alistair was not a bad leader. If you ignored his attempts at humor, he was actually intelligent and likeable. Well, likeable seemed bred in the bones of the Theirin line. Maric and Cailan were both likeable and charming. He was strong enough to not let his emotions rule him; otherwise, he would have beheaded Loghain for sure.

They could have moved faster, but Alistair and Elissa decided a couple of days for Loghain to become more comfortable with his new Warden senses and abilities would be a good idea. He might not be able to sense the darkspawn on his own yet, but there were other things they could teach him and help him with. By the time they neared Redcliffe Loghain was starting to sense the creatures himself and knew as much as the other two. Alistair even taught him how to recognize emissaries and was starting to teach him how to smite them without hurting the mages on their side. Loghain got practice with the real thing sooner than expected. Redcliffe was under attack.

In well-practiced movements, the group quickly dispatched the darkspawn. Loghain could only admire the skill and precision of the people he found himself with. That such a small group had been fighting these monsters alone for months shamed him. It was galling to think that perhaps Cailan understood the threat far better than he, that it wasn’t all a desire for glory inspired by legends and competition with his father’s legacy.

They battled their way to the gates of Redcliffe Castle where the strongest enemies were concentrated. Finally, piles of darkspawn littered the courtyard and they entered the castle where they immediately met with Eamon, Teagan and Riordan. Riordan was happy to see them, “It is good to see you all, Alistair, or should I say Your Majesty?”

Even as Alistair demurred Eamon interrupted them, “Riordan came with drastic news. The bulk of the horde is on its way to Denerim and should be there soon. I’m sorry, Alistair.”

“All those people,” Alistair refused to think of what could be happening to Starr and Marcail. He reminded himself she was a strong and intelligent woman and would find a way to survive. “Arl Eamon, how soon can the armies leave? I won’t allow all those people to die without a fight.”

“There is more, I am afraid, the Archdemon is at their head leading them. There is no doubt that this is a Blight.” Riordan eyed the younger man as the news hit him. He approved of the way Alistair stood firm at the information he had left his wife and son to face the Archdemon without him.

“We can begin a forced march tomorrow. I’ve had rooms prepared for all of you. Alistair, the men we left behind will defend Her Majesty and His Highness with their lives. They are all seasoned and disciplined men. Get what rest you can and I will have someone waken you so we can leave at dawn.” Alistair was grateful for Eamon’s thoughtfulness though he doubted he would be able to sleep. Before they left to go to their quarters, Riordan said they needed to discuss Warden business and asked them to join him in his room first.

Alistair couldn’t sleep. He was standing at the window in his room looking at the sky and thinking of Riordan’s words and his wife. He still couldn’t believe sometimes that Starr was his wife. His shoulders sagged at the realization that she might be a widow soon. _“A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel. A Grey Warden is not. When the soul of an Archdemon passes into a Grey Warden both are destroyed.”_ He shifted restlessly. _“Maker, keep her safe. If the price of her safety is my death, so be it.”_ Alistair couldn’t remember the last time he had prayed, but he prayed then. For the first time he was actually glad he had spared Loghain. A tap on his door interrupted his thoughts and Elissa walked in, her expression serious and uncertain. Alistair wondered if it had anything to do with Morrigan. He thought he noticed her near Elissa’s room earlier.

“Alistair,” Elissa began and then stopped. She looked ready to bolt, but Alistair just waited patiently. Finally, she started speaking again; quickly, as if afraid she wouldn’t finish what she had to say if she didn’t say it quickly. “You need to come speak to Morrigan. She knows about what happens to Grey Wardens and she says there is a way to prevent it but she needs cooperation from either you or Loghain. I won’t tell you any more than that, I want you to hear it from her and make a decision. I can’t make this decision on my own. Please.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow, “Is this some sort of joke, a payback?” He shook his head in answer, “No, of course not. That’s just wishful thinking on my part. Let’s go, at least it’ll take my mind off my own thoughts. I could use the break.” Elissa was quiet as they walked back to her room.

The tenseness left Morrigan’s shoulders when Elissa returned with Alistair. “So, a decision has been reached then?”

Elissa shook her head. “I didn’t tell him anything other than that you had a plan. You need to tell him everything you told me. Don’t leave anything out.”

Morrigan scowled in irritation, but had no choice, “I know a Warden must die . . . old magic . . . You must lay with me, or Loghain . . . taint . . . child can survive . . . you will never see it . . .”

Alistair looked at her in growing disbelief. Would the horror of this night never end? “Are you saying that I should have sex with you? Create a child with you? A child that will absorb the Archdemon and instead of dying it will become an old god?! That it will be attracted to the taint in the unborn child over the Grey Warden who actually kills it?” When Morrigan nodded something in him snapped. Eyes blazing and the cords in his neck pulsing rapidly he leaped at her. As he put his hands around her neck he shouted, “You’re lying! No more of your games! It’s not true!” he practically howled the last words. Riordan and Loghain had heard the shouts and come rushing. When they saw Alistair strangling the witch they pulled him away. It took all their strength but they finally got him away and wrestled him into a chair, still whispering, “It can’t be true.”

Morrigan was irate and ready to heap fire upon his head. “You fool,” she said hoarsely, “if you think that you can just . . .” She narrowed her eyes and looked more closely at the templar and the utter desolation of his expression. Realization came to her then and she went to him, “I’m sorry, Alistair.” Her words surprised the other Wardens. “Truly, I am so very, very sorry. I wish I could say I was just joking, but I can’t.”


	67. Back at the Palace

Seneschal Gerod had given them a quick tour of the Palace while Anora and Loghain’s personal belongings were packed up. Zevran and Leliana took note of the guards and staff; none seemed upset at the change of residents so far. Gerod smiled when Marcail asked if there were any ghosts and how big the dungeons were. The staff members they passed were nervous of Fen and Shale, but relaxed a little when neither the wolf nor the golem made any moves to attack. It was surely the strangest procession ever to grace those royal halls.

Currently she was in the king’s study examining maps and various documents she found there. She’d sent requests for Sanga, Hahren Valendrian, Master Wade and Nirelle to come see her and was trying to familiarize herself with some of the duties and paperwork she’d be facing in the days to come. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have gone out myself,” she muttered rebelliously.

“Because, my celestial cousin, now that you are a known public figure you could be a target. Until we have fully assessed security and decided on the appropriate personal guard for you we can’t afford to split the men Eamon left behind. One thing about Loghain, he was very security conscious and the measures he put in place are quite good. A few tweaks, a few changes in personnel and all will be well for now. I have also informed the staff that one of them will be required to taste any food before it is served to the Royal Family. That is you and Marcail, in case you didn’t know.” Zevran just grinned when she stuck her tongue out at him. “We will not take the chance of any Mac Tir loyalists getting to you before we rout them out. Your charm will win over many of them, but that will take a little time. Leliana has talked to most of the female staff under the guise of choosing a maidservant or two for you. That is turning out to be a very effective ruse for seeing where their loyalties lie. That Leliana, such a clever tongue, I still have hopes of getting her to use it on me,” he sighed dramatically and was rewarded with a smile and a chuckle. “And now I must examine the stables and kennels with the young Prince. He has been most patient.” He danced away and was gone.

Starr marveled at how easily he could lift her mood. While she didn’t like the fact that Alistair was deprived of their skills, she was secretly glad to have the company of the two rogues. And Shale as well. She knew she’d rest easier with some familiar faces around. Now she was going to turn her attention back to paperwork while she had the opportunity.

_“Royal It, Queen Sweetie? I can already hear Stair laughing when I tell him about my new titles, courtesy of Shale and Nirelle.”_ Several hours later Starr was standing at a window overlooking the gardens of her new home. This morning she was simply a woman married to a Grey Warden. Now she was a queen married to a king who was off to war, leaving her in charge. She’d taken care of personal matters in what was left of the day. Little things like finding the rooms they’d be sleeping in. She had a feeling the next few days wouldn’t allow her much time to herself. No matter what, Marcail was her priority, then Ferelden. First thing in the morning, she had a meeting scheduled with Arl Wulff, which might lead to a meeting with Anora. She already felt a headache forming at the thought. Hopefully, Seneschal Gerod would have some candidates who could teach her something about how to be queen, the protocols, the relationships, the basic duties. Maybe she should just give him the job. Marcail liked him; he seemed to enjoy Marcail’s company. If there was somebody he could train as seneschal . . . it was worth thinking about.

Starr yawned. She could hear Marcail in the next room. The royal apartments were bigger than Sanga’s new house and Marcail was exploring every corner. He’d already picked out his own room with Starr’s approval. She could hear him talking to Alistair via their star. She smiled to herself as he described his new room in detail and then ‘Senschal’ Gerod who knew ‘lots and lots.’ She sat down and started examining some more maps of Ferelden. Something was bothering her but she couldn’t figure it out. Finally, she gave up for the night. Maybe it would come to her after some sleep.

After breakfast with Marcail in their family quarters, a practice Starr was determined to continue when Alistair returned, she went down to the king’s study for her meeting with Arl Wulff. She was mumbling to herself, “Find tutor . . . Denerim estate . . . darkspawn . . . Alienage . . . protocols . . . ugh.” She looked up to see Seneschal Gerod coming towards her, “Good morning, Seneschal, how are you this morning?”

He looked a bit surprised as he answered, “Very well Your Majesty, thank you for asking. Is there anything you need before your meeting with Arl Wulff?” he asked. “You said you wanted to speak to the heads of the various staff and guards. I will arrange that for this afternoon, with your permission.”

“Thank you, Gerod. Actually, if you have a moment I would like to discuss something with you,” they entered the study. A short time later, the door reopened and Starr was heard asking for some large maps of Ferelden to be brought to a conference room.

“Certainly, Your Majesty. I will begin planning the transition at once. Thank you,” Gerod backed out of the room.

Starr had very little time before Arl Wulff arrived for his appointment. “Lord Wulff, thank you for coming. First, let me express my condolences on the loss of your sons. I can only imagine how awful that must be for you. Please sit.” Starr waited until Wulff settled down before continuing. “I’ll get straight to the point, I’d like your assistance with the Arling of Denerim . . .” Starr didn’t believe Denerim could afford to have the arling vacant until a new Arl was put in place, not after Howe. Arl Wulff was actually pleased to have something constructive to do, and he knew his helpfulness would be remembered. As they were leaving the study Starr decided to ask him something else, “Were you involved in many military campaigns?”

Arl Wulff looked at the new queen and realized just how young she was. He smiled, “A few. His Majesty seems very capable. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

Starr’s cheeks grew pink. “Th-thank you, you’re very kind. I’m worried about Stair of course, but I . . . well let me show you.” They went into the conference room with Gerod’s maps and Starr explained what she was thinking.

Wulff’s face grew grave as she spoke. “You may be right. Redcliffe is a nice enough prize but Denerim . . . if they come this far that would just about destroy Ferelden. Are there enough darkspawn to draw off the Wardens and the army and still attack Denerim?” Starr went to the door and requested that Zevran, Shale and Leliana join them immediately. While they waited for the others to join them, they began discussing what they could do.

“The Royal It called? What does it want?” Shale was irritable. She’d just been planning how to decimate the local pigeon population while watching over Marcail’s sword practice.

Zevran grinned, “Ah, couldn’t stay away from me. Do you think it wise to create a royal scandal so soon?” Even as he asked the question, his eyes noted the variety of maps and serious expressions.

“My lord, we were all in the Deep Roads when we saw the horde.” Starr looked at her friends, “In your opinion, were there enough darkspawn in the Dead Trenches to split into two groups? One to attack Redcliffe and seem like the main horde, while the other group, probably bigger, travels in secret to attack Denerim?” She pointed to one of the maps she had marked, “These are some of the entrances to the Deep Roads found by the Wardens. They are mostly south and east until they get past the Brecelian Forest and closer to Dragon’s Peak.”

“And the Wardens would not be able to sense them in the depths, am I correct?” Leliana asked soberly. “There were so many, they filled the chasms. I think you are right, even a third would be enough for an army. You think it’s a trick, don’t you?”

“I think we need to prepare for the possibility.” She sent missives and issued orders. Only Zevran noticed the slight nervousness belying the confidence of her manner. Soon servants were setting up a buffet table along the side of the room shortly followed by the arrival of Bann Alfstanna, Sanga, Sergeant Kylon and the Harbormaster. Hahren Valendrian, the Revered Mother, and Bann Sighard with Oswyn were next. Valendrian looked rather uncomfortable to be in such august company. Finally, the captain of the palace guard came with Anora in tow. Starr looked around at the assortment of people gathered around and was privately amused at the reactions they had to each other. She noted with approval that Oswyn was courteous and appeared comfortable with both Valendrian and Sanga, and treated all of them with respect. Anora, on the other hand, looked as if she smelled something and sat near the Revered Mother.

“Thank you all for coming. I’ll get right to the point, Denerim needs to prepare for the darkspawn. It is my belief, based on their numbers, that the horde has split into two groups and while one openly attacks Redcliffe and the surrounding area, the other group is traveling secretly underground towards Denerim. Denerim is a much richer prize, and now the Wardens and some troops are joining the army they gathered at Redcliffe. It’ll be at least a week before they can get back here. We need to make plans.”

Consternation and protests greeted her words, but shortly died down as the magnitude of what she was saying settled in. Arl Wulff’s support lent credence to her position with the Banns and the Revered Mother. “I have not met some of you before today and am sorry that it is in such circumstances. I can guess you are wondering why some of you are here for what is, in essence, a military strategy session. You are all respected leaders or members of your respective communities and I am a fairly unknown entity. If I’m right, we don’t have much time to put our plans into action and your words and directions will help insure the cooperation of Denerim’s citizens. Also, during our travels, we found that useful information and ideas come from a variety of sources so your specialized knowledge can give a valuable perspective to the discussion. We are not going to stand on ceremony here, if you have something to say, say it. I don’t know how long we’ll be so there is plenty of food and drink when you want it.” Starr sat down and let the conversation flow around her. She was pleased to see that Sergeant Kylon and the captain of the palace guard were working together. Leliana even got the Revered Mother to offer the support of her templars.

Feeling restless and thirsty, Starr wandered over to the buffet table and found some juice. She had more to tell them but right now, observing their interactions with each other she was learning much. Oswyn limped over and she took the opportunity to have a quiet word with him. The more she talked to him the more she liked him. She was pleased when he accepted her offer to be Marcail’s tutor while he recovered from his injuries. He would also begin teaching her son what it was like to be a noble and how to navigate his new environment. It would be a different perspective than what Gerod could teach them.

“Your Majesty,” Captain Rogers of the palace guard spoke, “if the darkspawn are coming, you and His Highness, Prince Marcail, should not be here.”

“I agree with the captain about the young prince,” Bann Sighard argued, “but your presence and skills will undoubtedly be an inspiration to those fighting.”

Before the debate could begin in earnest, Starr stopped it. “I have an announcement. Before he left I told Stair, His Majesty,” she blushed as she stuttered over the title, “that we will have an addition to the family in a few months. We had hoped to enjoy the news privately before announcing my pregnancy. If a ship is available, I will be leaving with Marcail and the guards Eamon left with me for Highever. Anora will also be going. If I stay, it’s possible the Archdemon could sense the child of a Grey Warden and direct its forces accordingly. It has already tracked Elissa and Stair through the Fade to taunt them in their dreams; I won’t take the chance of it harming any of my children.”

Her news lightened the atmosphere of the room. Bann Sighard grinned broadly, “Then I gladly rescind my arguments. This news gives hope to all of us. Congratulations Your Majesty.”

“Ah, this explains why Alistair was not as devastated to leave you as I thought he would be. We can discuss the safety of your growing family on the way to Highever. I swore to Alistair I would protect you and I shall do so,” Zevran stated firmly.

Starr rolled her eyes, “You know, one thing I have already learned,” she remarked drily, “being Queen definitely does not mean you can do whatever you want.” Even Anora snorted a little in amusement. “We discussed possible bases of operation for the Wardens and Elissa commented that Highever would be good, at least for the interim. It’s not too isolated, no darkspawn have been sighted that far north, and we haven’t found any signs of old entrances to the Deep Roads. I know some of Howe’s rats may still be there, but without their leader to protect them, I don’t anticipate a great deal of trouble. I daresay we’re as likely to find the place looted and deserted if Fergus hasn’t been able to return. He and Elissa have lost much while serving our country, we can at least take the opportunity to help restore it and leave it in better condition when we leave.” There were nods of approval at the sentiment.

“Your Majesty,” Valendrian got her attention, “you may find more people dead than alive when you arrive. When Howe conducted his ‘purge’ he spared no one.” It was obvious the memory was a difficult one. “His men tore through the orphanage and slaughtered everyone they found. Not a babe was spared. I doubt he would have showed more mercy to those loyal to his enemy.” The Revered Mother requested a moment of silence in memory of those lost and she said a prayer for their souls. Whatever some might feel towards elves, mass murder of children did not sit well with any of them.

“I was planning on leaving at dawn to return to Waking Sea. If you don’t mind being a little crowded, Your Majesty, you and your party could travel on my ship and I can take you quickly to Highever. I can make room for twelve. I frequently docked there and they should recognize my flag.” Bann Alfstanna offered.

So it was decided. Leliana would act as liaison between the different factions and help Seneschal Gerod coordinate their efforts. The guards and templars would work together; the Chantry and the Arl of Denerim’s estate would be used as places of refuge and healing. The Harbormaster would arrange with as many ship’s captains as possible to transport women of childbearing age to Highever. He was sure of six that would be willing to cooperate. Starr gave him the authority to offer limited relief from taxes as an incentive. She didn’t want to provide the darkspawn with any more broodmother candidates than she could avoid, assuming they took the time to capture a few. The others would notify their peers and suggest any able-bodied people capable of fighting report to Captain Rogers. Anora would assist Arl Wulff until it was time to depart. Starr, Marcail, Zevran, Anora, Oswyn and Eamon’s guards would meet Bann Alfstanna at dawn.

Starr motioned to Sanga to wait as the others left to get started with everything they needed to do. Once they were alone Starr slumped in a chair, “Oh Sanga, I hope I’m doing the right thing. And this is certainly not the way I wanted to tell you I was pregnant. What if Stair thinks I’m wrong and I leave a big mess for him?”

 Sanga waited for Starr to finish. “My dear, first let me tell you how thrilled I am for both you and Alistair. If anybody was meant to be a father . . . As far as the rest, that’s just nerves. Maybe the darkspawn won’t come, but you had some knowledgeable people here who were willing to work with you on the chance and who felt free enough to let you know if they thought you were out of your mind. One thing is clear; you care about the welfare of your people. And that’s what we all are now, your people. That’s a big burden. Speaking as a citizen, it’s nice to feel that my queen is so concerned about me. We haven’t had that in some time.”

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she had to wait a minute before she could speak. “Thanks, I guess I just needed the reassurance. You know, I’m feeling hungry for the first time today.” Starr got up, piled food onto a plate, and waited for Sanga to get some refreshments and sit back down. “Sanga, I want you to come with us to Highever.”

With a small smile, Sanga turned her down, “That’s very nice of you but I need to take care of my people. I promise I’ll try to get on one of the ships but if not I’ll do what I can. I have absolutely no desire to be one of your broodmothers. I better go. Stay safe, Starr. I can’t wait to tell Oskar his ‘little Starr’ is going to be a mother again. Maker watch over you.” She left then.

It finally sank in. She was the Queen of Ferelden. Technically, she supposed she was Queen Consort, but with Alistair on his way to Redcliffe to join Eamon and the army, she was Ferelden’s ruler. No wonder Alistair didn’t want to be King. She was scared to her bones of doing something wrong. Zevran found her sitting there a few minutes later.

“What is wrong, bellissima? I thought your meeting went well, you have people acting on your logical idea that the darkspawn will attack and they are working together,” Zevran was concerned.

“I’m scared, Zevran. All these people looking to me to lead them in Stair’s absence. I don’t know anything about leadership or governing,” Starr said.

Zevran couldn’t help laughing, “You sound very much like your beloved templar, my dear cousin. I’m sure even the vaunted King Maric made mistakes, but that is not what people remember about him. Looking at you earlier, I don’t think a single person noticed your fear of ruling. They noticed your concern. The fact that the two of you are beautiful will simply make court functions more enjoyable. And much can be forgiven of a mother to be. So come, there is much to do before dawn.”


	68. Ritual Discussion

Alistair felt numb. Everything he cared about was back in Denerim, about to be destroyed by the Archdemon. And now, even if they arrived in time to halt the destruction and kill the Archdemon his child would still be destroyed. How much could a man take in mere hours and remain sane?

While Morrigan healed herself, Elissa told the other wardens about her ritual. When she finished Riordan and Loghain looked at Morrigan, then Alistair. This did not explain why Alistair had attacked the woman. Morrigan noticed their confusion and shook her head. “Fools, isn’t it obvious? Starr is pregnant.” Riordan and Loghain were grave and for the first time Loghain felt pity for the younger man. He had grown to respect Alistair and Elissa over their journey. He had suffered a number of severe blows in a short time, enough to unsettle any man.

Riordan spoke, the seriousness in his tone getting Alistair’s attention, “Then there is only one option.”

With a quiet menace that sent shivers down Elissa’s spine and would have surprised many of their companions, Alistair answered him, “Choose your words very carefully, _friend_.”

“I have some questions, witch,” Loghain intervened. “If we sent Starr out of Denerim as soon as we find her, will she be far enough away to not be affected by the death of the Archdemon?”

“Through an army of darkspawn? I don’t see how that is possible. I think she would have to be at least a mile away, for safety. If you have the opportunity to kill it, will you delay just to give her more time? I think not.” Morrigan answered. She took a deep breath before continuing, “There are three purposes to the ritual. The first is to actually become pregnant. That Starr did so is either a miracle or the result of the two of them acting like rabbits. The second is to prepare the way for the Archdemon and the third is to protect the mother. I’m sorry Alistair, but the shock of the Archdemon entering the babe could kill Starr.”

Alistair closed his eyes and then opened them again, decision made. “Then we do the Ritual. Does this mean that Starr and our child will be safe? If we also get her as far away as possible?”

Morrigan had already moved back to the fire. Staring into the flames, she answered him, “There are no guarantees in life, Alistair. Not even with magic. You know this as well as anyone. But, it is more likely that it will find me instead of Starr under those circumstances. Give me an hour to try to prepare and see if there is anything I can do to increase the chances of the Archdemon finding me. If I don’t get pregnant or I die the Archdemon’s soul will head for Starr.”

Alistair moved towards her. He turned her around and winced as he eyed the bruises on her throat. “I’m sorry for those Morrigan; I went out of my mind for a minute. Thank you, this means more to me than you can imagine. I don’t know what I can do for you, but I owe you.”

“No, Alistair, we’re even. Flemeth taught me that love was a weakness but I think that, at least sometimes, she was wrong. I even envy you at times. Try not to be an idiot and spoil it.”

It was a tired smile, but it was a smile Alistair gave her, “Why does your calling me an idiot actually make me feel better? You have your hour.” He left to go to his room, to think, to resolve himself to what was to come, to pray that Starr would forgive him for what he was about to do.

“Warden, I will return here when I am done,” Morrigan swept out of the room to prepare.

“I am not sure this is wise. It goes against everything the Wardens have done, have stood for,” Riordan was troubled. “But better the witch than Ferelden’s queen. Her Majesty is an impressive woman and I have no desire to see her hurt. I suppose the question now is which Warden should be Morrigan’s partner.”

Elissa snorted, “You don’t know Alistair very well. He plans on doing it himself. It is his family, his wife at stake. He would never ask another to do the difficult thing instead of him, especially when he is so personally involved in the results.”

“He can’t do that! We don’t need another bastard showing up in twenty or thirty years with a claim to the throne,” Loghain ground out the words.

“I’m glad you feel that way, because, Loghain, you’re the only other choice. Riordan, Morrigan told me only newer Wardens, those not too far into the taint, will be suitable. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Riordan bowed slightly, “a night in the arms of a beautiful woman is not usually a hardship, but I shall contain my disappointment. I shall leave the two of you to discuss this further, then.” Elissa noted he seemed relieved to not be a part of the plans. She supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“Is this where you order me to have sex with that witch?” Loghain spoke calmly but there was an odd glitter in his eyes.

“I thought you volunteered when you said Alistair shouldn’t do it himself.” Elissa turned his own words back at him, then spoke in a more conciliatory fashion, “Let me tell you something about our new king. When we were in Fort Drakon the guards were going to torture me first, and rape was obviously part of their plans. Alistair stopped them. He taunted them, told stupid jokes and just plain irritated them to the point where they took him instead. He didn’t stop even when they dislocated his jaw. And they made him pay for every stupid comment. Alistair loves Starr. This will hurt him in more ways than you can imagine. Part of it is that either way a child of his will be doomed. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Will you force him to suffer more out of pettiness or prudery? Have you ever loved someone enough to not want to see them suffer if you could prevent it? I’m not going to force you, but I want you to think carefully before you decide.” Elissa sat down in front of the fire and stared into the blaze while Loghain considered her words.

Loghain found another chair and sat. He thought about Elissa’s story of Fort Drakon. He could admit to himself it never would have occurred to him to do what Alistair did. And unlike Alistair, he would not consider the witch’s babe his as Alistair would, not under these circumstances. Was that a weakness in him or in the younger man? He was no longer sure. _“But I am right about one thing, Alistair should not be the one involved. Maric would be proud of the man he had become. Whether he will be a good king only time will tell, but I will not add to his burdens.”_ For the first time in a long time peace settled over Loghain. This was the right decision. “You’re right. I made my decision already. I hope the witch is patient, it’s been some time since I’ve been with a woman.”

Elissa didn’t bother hiding her relief. “Very well, when Morrigan comes I’ll go to Alistair and tell him she needs a little more time. I doubt he’ll question me, he’ll just be glad of the delay. I will stay and talk to him, giving you and Morrigan plenty of time to get started on the, erm, ritual,” she could not help blushing just a little as she said this. Suddenly the fact he was of an age to be her father was startlingly evident.

Loghain felt old. He wondered if he had ever been as young as these, these children seemed to be. Yet what they had accomplished was nothing short of amazing. In a silence that should have been tense but was oddly companionable, they waited for Morrigan.


	69. The Final Battle

It was time to march.

Eamon had been as good as his word and they were ready by dawn. Alistair supposed he should be grateful to Loghain, or at least hate him less. He had his fellow Grey Warden to thank for that. He smiled a little, he was glad Loghain performed the ritual. Last night, while reflecting on what he was preparing to do, he had felt so depressed. He was contemplating Starr’s reaction when he could have sworn he felt her presence, reassuring him, and telling him she loved him no matter what. It was probably just dreaming but it settled him. But then, thoughts of Starr and Marcail usually did lift his spirits. And now he was going to be a father in a few months, something he would never have anticipated. They just had to slay the Archdemon and keep his family alive. No problem.

Denerim was too far away for a forced march the entire distance, but they moved quickly enough to reach Denerim in five days instead of more than a week. They crested the last hill overlooking Denerim being assaulted by the horde. As the army gathered into position, Alistair strode to the front and clambered onto a broken wall. Standing he addressed his army, “Gaze upon the darkspawn horde but fear them not. This woman beside me is a citizen of Ferelden, risen through the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Without her, none of us would be here. Today we honor the sacrifices of my brother, King Cailan, and the soldiers and Grey Wardens at Ostagar. Today we finish what Cailan began. For King Cailan, for the Grey Wardens, for FERELDEN!”

Inspired, the soldiers surged into the fray and quickly won their way through to the gates, leaving darkspawn bodies behind. Surging forward they stopped in surprise. Shale was surrounded by dozens of darkspawn bodies. More darkspawn were being stopped by the city guard. In an amused rumble, Shale spoke to Alistair, “Has the Royal It come to join the festivities? Crushing heads has been great fun.”

“Fan out men!” Elissa shouted, “Don’t leave a single one alive.” Passing Shale she added, “Always a pleasure watching you crush darkspawn.” Then she threw herself into a small group of the monsters. In short order, the remaining darkspawn at the city gates were defeated. Alistair and Elissa could sense the darkspawn in other parts of the city; they didn’t need any reports to know this was just one skirmish in what was going to be a protracted battle. They gathered with their companions around Riordan to discuss where they would go from there.

Alistair couldn’t help looking around for some sign of Starr. He didn’t see her but he did catch sight of a familiar redhead running lightly towards them with her usual grace. “Your Majesty!” she called to him, “You made good time.”

 “Leliana, it is good to see you. How is Starr, er Her Majesty?” Alistair wondered if he would ever get used to using titles or hearing them directed at him. He hoped it wouldn’t take too long to know when to use them correctly. Leliana quickly explained that Starr was in Highever and the arrangements she made before she left. The darkspawn were met with more organized resistance than expected and unable to cause as much havoc as they might have, though the forces in Denerim couldn’t cover the entire city. Alistair spun the bard around at the news before quickly rejoining his fellow Wardens.

“Good news, Alistair?” Elissa remarked with no little amusement.

“I am married to the most brilliant and wonderful woman in Thedas,” Alistair answered. “She anticipated the darkspawn. She’s in Highever with Marcail.” Cheers went up as word spread that the new royal family was safe along with many other women and children of Denerim. The news about the organized resistance as well as the refuge provided by the Chantry and the Arl’s estate were also welcomed. Quickly they reorganized their plans accordingly. Riordan would still make his way to the top of Fort Drakon and try to draw the Archdemon’s attention. Elissa, Griffon, Loghain and Wynne would join him at the fort via the marketplace. Alistair, Morrigan, Shale and Leliana would make their way to the Alienage and work their way around to Fort Drakon from there. Sten and Oghren would lead the troops forward and clear the way. Hopefully, the Archdemon wouldn’t sense the Wardens’ intent, split up as they were, and they might have the opportunity to take out the darkspawn generals Riordan sensed. Getting rid of those generals would surely weaken the Archdemon’s army and lessen the damage they were inflicting.

Before splitting to their separate routes, Alistair fell into step beside Loghain. “Loghain, Starr took Anora with her to Highever. I thought you’d like to know.” The two men looked at each other, Loghain acknowledged the news with a slight nod. Hatred doesn’t die easily, and Alistair was both grateful to Loghain for participating in Morrigan’s ritual instead of him and irritated by that gratitude. Loghain understood hatred and pride. That Alistair made the effort to tell him about Anora was enough for him. Anything more would embarrass them both.

When they joined forces again at Fort Drakon the generals were dead and they could see the Archdemon flying overhead. They watched eagerly as a small figure seemed to disrupt the dragon’s flight only to have their eagerness turn to horror as Riordan plummeted to his death. The remaining Wardens looked at each other grimly. It was up to them now. The darkspawn were heaviest here, protecting their leader. Fortunately, the Wardens still had most of their army to call upon. This close there was no way to avoid being sensed by the Archdemon so they regrouped into one unit.

Breathing heavily once they were inside the fort, Alistair reflected that it was a good thing they had all that practice fighting dragons of every size and shape imaginable over the previous few months since the darkspawn seemed able to leash them to their will. “Well, now that we’ve had the spicy appetizer let’s find the main course. Is it just me or do the darkspawn seem smarter the closer we get to the Archdemon? One of those little tidbits you should add to your list of ‘things all Wardens should know.’” He rolled his shoulders and settled for the next round of excitement.

Elissa snorted as she eyed the shadows, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness of the interior. Apparently, many of the usual torches were lying useless on the ground. “I think you’re right. Bet there’re a lot of traps. Be careful. Looks like something with major mojo went through here. Let’s move forward quickly but cautiously. No sense dying this close to the goal.” With the rogues in front to detect traps, they made their way further in. They encountered necromancers, shades, walking dead and “Sandal? What, how, did you kill all these darkspawn?” Elissa’s voice squeaked in incredulity. This was surely one of the oddest moments since she became a Warden. The Fade felt more real than this moment did. One odd and unbloodied young dwarf surrounded by a mountain of dead darkspawn was more than she wanted to think about at the moment, so she said the first thing that came to mind, “Do you have any of your father’s wares for sale?” Morrigan looked at her as if she lost her mind while Alistair just grinned and began searching for potions.

After stocking up on lyrium, health and other potions they continued their battle to the roof. For a moment, they were stunned by the awesome menace of the creature they had to defeat. Loghain yelled to the rogues, “Use the ballistae!” while Alistair shouted to Shale to protect the rogues and mages. He, Loghain and Griffon flanked the Archdemon and kept it harried and distracted. The goal was to weaken it from a distance as much as possible so the Wardens could rush in and finish the job. Alistair spared a moment to be thankful Zevran parted with his massive supply of various bombs. When the darkspawn broke through the armies’ defenses to answer the Archdemon’s call the Wardens redoubled their efforts. Fortunately, they had enough allies coming through with the darkspawn they could still concentrate on the Archdemon.

Finally, when Alistair wasn’t sure if they had any fight left in them, the Archdemon faltered. Muttering, “Maker help us,” he bolstered his flagging energy and battered body and ran for the enemy’s head. Loghain and Elissa were right behind him. “Let’s do this together,” he shouted and they positioned their swords for the final stroke. “Now!” he drove his sword into the creature’s head with all his considerable strength. When he twisted his sword further in, explosive white light filled the air as the Archdemon died and the Wardens were flung back, unconscious and barely breathing.

Two days later Alistair regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. He looked around and only saw Wynne dozing in a chair. “Starr?” he whispered hoarsely and tried to sit up but the pain in his chest was agony. Loghain and Elissa pushed him back down. Elissa brought him a cup of water and helped him take a sip.

“Wynne’s tired. She’s been taking care of the three of us for two days now. We were worried about you, Alistair; you’ve been near death the whole time. She said Morrigan watched over us until the darkspawn were no longer a threat to us and then vanished. Thanks to Starr’s foresight, the damage to Denerim isn’t as bad as it could have been, in either property or lives. Got yourself a keeper, there. And before you ask, I have already sent word to Highever. Meanwhile Seneschal Gerod and Leliana are organizing things and assessing what needs to be rebuilt. Sergeant Kylon and Captain Rogers of the palace guard are keeping the peace and arresting looters on sight. Do you think the Legion of the Dead would take them?” she added half-jokingly before Alistair’s eyes fluttered closed and he drifted back into sleep.

Elissa let Wynne know that Alistair woke briefly and then she and Loghain went to the next room where they could talk privately. “Why is it taking so long for him to recover?” Loghain demanded quietly. The last thing Ferelden needed was an unconscious king with a young and pretty wife trying to govern in his stead. Even with Eamon’s assistance, she would be prey for every sycophant. “His injuries seemed no more severe than our own. I’ve certainly seen him take harder hits to the head.”

The same question had been bothering Elissa. “I’ve been trying to remember exactly what happened. We all plunged our swords into the Archdemon’s head at the same time.” Loghain nodded, that’s what he remembered too. “Then I think Alistair twisted his, digging it deeper. I swear I could hear its death cry then a final surge of energy and malice directed at Alistair, and then . . . nothing until I woke up here at the Palace.”

“So the witch’s ritual may have worked. That twist was the final deathblow but the creature, out of insult or injury, took one final swipe at the boy before finding a new home.” Loghain pondered the implications. “We, you will have to make sure nobody takes advantage of Her Majesty when she gets here. With the king temporarily incapacitated . . .”

Elissa couldn’t help laughing, “You do not know our Starr. Trust me; she is not the soft target some might think. She’s inexperienced, I’ll admit, but she and Alistair both are smart as well as quick learners. Maker help anyone who succeeds in putting something over on her, I guarantee they’ll live to regret it. But you’re right; we should make sure they don’t have the opportunity. I’m taking it as a good sign that he woke up. I think Wynne is too.”


	70. Highever

“I’m glad Fergus and Elissa didn’t see this,” Starr commented with no small amount of angry disgust to Oswyn and Zevran. They were standing in the main hall, freshly cleaned and aired out. Howe’s men hadn’t bothered to remove all the bodies from the castle. Any rooms they weren’t using, such as the library, were simply closed off. Even the family quarters were still ‘occupied.’ Things were better now. It hadn’t taken them long to get to Highever, Bann Alfstanna’s ship was fast  and sturdy. _“I’ll be happy if I never have to get on a ship again, I have never been so sick. Maker and Creators I am glad to be on firm ground again, even here. There was very little opposition, thankfully, but we had a lot of work to do.”_ Aloud she said, “I guess it’s a good thing they need to eat. Perhaps somebody from town or the Chantry can help identify the remaining bodies, though after this amount of time it will only be a guess.”

“You’ve done all you could, bellissima. If Fergus Cousland shows up tomorrow, then you can take satisfaction that you can hand his home back to him in reasonable condition. But now, you need to get some rest. Your healer threatened me with things I do not care to mention if I didn’t make sure you went to bed. She is a very scary woman, that one. To threaten one so handsome as myself she must have a will of stone, do you think she could be a golem in disguise?” Zevran asked in mock horror.

“Funny, she never threatens me. Maybe she thinks _I’m_ the handsome one?” Oswyn teased the Antivan. Once he got used to him he quite enjoyed Zevran’s company. And his massages were helping his legs, though they would never be what they were. “Lady Anora helped Marcail and I organize the library and study. Some of the books are too damaged, but most are useable. Marcail found some ledgers and she explained what they were for. Your son seems to have a reasonable understanding of administration. Tomorrow we should be able to start his regular lessons. Lady Anora offered to go through the ledgers and figure out which merchants the Couslands had the best relationships with, if you will allow it.”

Starr tried unsuccessfully to hide her yawn, “that sounds fine. I’m going into town tomorrow to see how things are progressing with the fortifications, among other things. Good night, gentlemen.” The two men watched her leave with respect and concern. Zevran knew she didn’t sleep at all before leaving Denerim. She told him she needed to be available as long as possible between brief visits to different areas of the city. She wanted the people of Denerim to see their new queen. She didn’t get much sleep on the ship, either. Within the hour, she was plagued with nausea and she’d been driving herself relentlessly since landing. Oswyn appreciated how much she cared about her people; he’d been the recipient of her attention. She was the one who noticed one leg was shorter due to Howe’s torture. He certainly felt better after she suggested leather inserts in one of his boots to counteract the difference. He was worried, however, that she would hurt herself if she didn’t slow down.

Starr was more tired than they knew. At least now that the castle was being cleaned and aired out, she wasn’t constantly fighting the urge to be sick. The burning of sweet herbs had given her a headache but that was still preferable. She was finding it hard to fight the urge to sleep night and day.

The next few days were hectic, but order was gradually established. Starr and Zevran started training the women of Highever and then those from Denerim with dagger and bow. Their goal was to make sure enough of them had enough proficiency not to allow Highever to be an easy target for bandits and wandering thugs. As ships docked and women and children disembarked, Oswyn used the opportunity to teach Marcail the proper way to greet visitors. Many houses in town and the Alienage were empty, needing cleaning or repair. Some women were assigned to the castle, and the rest were assigned to these houses for the duration of their stay. The last ship to dock brought more evacuees and news that the darkspawn were within sight of the capital. Gardens were tended and fruits and vegetables were salvaged and preserved. Walls were roughly rebuilt and livestock retrieved from the forest and surrounding countryside. Anora took over most of the recordkeeping and assisted Oswyn in tutoring Marcail on protocol as well as academics. Every evening after dinner, the current and former queen closeted themselves in the study for an hour or more. What they discussed remained between the two of them, but their relationship did become less strained.

Things were much better by the end of the week and those left alive after Howe’s occupation were pleased to have the women from Denerim with them. They accepted that Starr was their Queen and Marcail the heir apparent to the throne. What was more important to them was that a semblance of normality was being restored and the newcomers were helping, not hurting. Earlier in the evening, Starr had the nagging sensation that something was wrong with Alistair, that he was troubled rather than hurt. She didn’t want to say anything, people would begin to doubt her sanity or put it down to nerves. Before retiring, she entered the Teyrn’s bedroom suite and stepped out on the balcony. She supposed she could have taken that room for herself, but she wasn’t here as a conqueror. Out of respect, these rooms and the rooms Fergus shared with his wife and child were off limits, awaiting his return.

She breathed in the crisp night air and looked up at the sky. Finding ‘their’ star, she focused her thoughts. _“Stair, emma lath, emma vhenan, I hope you are safe and well. I don’t know why I feel something is plaguing you but I do. Just remember I love you and always will. Keep your energies concentrated on the Archdemon so you can come back to us soon. We can sort through anything else later. Maker and Creators watch over you. Stay strong, emma lath.”_ She left the balcony and went to her room, feeling better if a little foolish. For the first time since the Landsmeet, she slept deeply and soundly.

Things were going well enough in Highever for disputes to arise. Oswyn and Anora decided it was a good opportunity for both Starr and Marcail to learn how to preside over court. The matters would be different, but the procedures would be roughly the same at the palace. They explained what would happen, they would both be on hand to ask questions and, if desired, give their opinion quietly but the decision would be Starr’s. It sounded pretty boring to Marcail. He looked up at his mother, “Do I have to do this? I was hoping Zev would take me hunting.”

Starr looked down at her son, “Sorry kiddo, if I have to you have to. At least this is something we can learn together. If it doesn’t take long you can go hunting later.”

Marcail pouted, “Bet it’ll be boring.”

“It may be boring to you or to me. But, whatever the issue it is important to them and we will show them the respect of listening without frowning, pouting, or anything else. We shall be polite, is that understood?”

The boy sighed, “Yes ma’am.” He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and then thought of something. “Do I have to smile?”

Her lips quirked but she answered seriously, “No. In fact, it’s probably better not to frown or smile, so we don’t seem to favor one over another. We have to try our best to be fair. Ready?” Marcail nodded and tried to have no expression at all, but it was obviously a struggle.

The first few disputes were minor, mostly misunderstandings and easily resolved. Starr actually wondered if it was a way for the women to feel things were more or less back to normal. Then Goldanna stepped forward with a petition. She wanted to settle in Highever. “I got no family left in Denerim, not after my husband died a few years back. I can make a better life for my kids and they like it here. Better’n running in the streets. I’d like to stay in the house we’re in now. It’s a good location.” Anora and Oswyn asked several questions while Starr examined Goldanna and listened to her answers. No, she didn’t expect to be given a house. No, she didn’t have much money. Yes, she was a hard worker, always had been.

“Goldanna, your petition raises an interesting question. Many of the houses empty before we arrived belonged to the families of soldiers in Teyrn Cousland’s army. Until we know the status of those soldiers, ownership is in doubt. I will not deprive these men of their homes. However, some houses that were vacant have no one left to claim title. We need to examine the status of the house occupied by you and your children. We have no objection, or even any right to object, to your settling here if that is your wish, but not in a home belonging to an absent soldier. Your petition is taken under advisement until all inquiries have been made and we know which houses are available.”

Goldanna would have preferred a decision then and there, but acknowledged it was a fair enough answer. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said and stepped back.

A hooded man and his companion, also hooded, stepped forward before another case could be called. “Your Majesty,” he said in a low, hoarse voice, “I returned home to find my family gone and usurpers in their place. But not the usurpers I was expecting. What shall be my compensation?” There was a slight mocking quality to the question, which had Starr looking closely at him. There was something familiar about him. She switched her attention to his companion, who shifted under her gaze. She caught a glimpse of his battleaxe and smiled. She recognized that weapon.

“Samuels, step forward,” she commanded. Surprised, the man did so before he could stop himself. Her next words were for the speaker, “Teyrn Fergus Cousland, Captain, it is good to see you again. Or will be once you remove that tatty hood.” Fergus did so, grinning like a tired boy. Looking around the room at the excitement of the Highever people Starr adjourned court for the day until the Teyrn was ready to resume. “Marcail, you wanted to go hunting with Zevran. I think you two had better get moving. Today is a day for celebrating.” Marcail slipped off his chair and bowed to his mother and then Fergus before running off. Quietly Starr spoke to her former captain, “Fergus, I am so sorry for your loss. I know you have many questions, come join me after you’ve bathed and I will answer what I can. I will tell you this, your sister Elissa escaped Howe’s attentions. I’m sure you recognize Oswyn. Lord Oswyn, will you take these two to the bathing chambers? It will give you a chance to catch up. I’ll see you shortly.”

“Bathing chambers? Since when do we have a bathing chamber?” Fergus asked as Starr walked off. “As we got closer to Highever I heard rumors that the queen was in residence, I didn’t expect to see Starr instead of Anora in that role. How are you, Oswyn, it’s good to see an old friend.” By the time they got to the bathing chamber, clean clothes had already been set out for the two men.

Fergus joined Starr and Anora in a small parlor she jokingly referred to as her ‘title-free zone.’ “I need a place where I can be just Starr, a person like any other. You two may have grown up with titles, but I admit it’s very strange to me.” Starr was sipping tea and nibbling on some fruit. This was her favorite room to retreat to when she had the opportunity. Sanga noticed she was more comfortable snacking on lighter fare than eating regular meals so she and the other women made sure some food was always at hand. This made it easy to offer Fergus something to tide him over until dinner.

“I think that’s one of the reasons Mother and Father,” he hesitated only briefly before continuing, “why Mother and Father kept Nan on as cook after we were grown. Your nanny is one person who will never let you get too full of yourself. She can always remind you of the time you got in trouble for this or that.” Fergus smiled a little at some of his memories, though his smile was tinged with sadness. “Oswyn tells me you are in Elissa’s room; that you left my parents’ room and the ones I shared with Oriana and Oren unoccupied. I appreciate your thoughtfulness but I insist you move into the Teyrn’s rooms while you are here. I’m not ready yet. And Mother would surely come back and box my ears otherwise. I’ll stay in my sister’s room for now.” He looked into the fire as if he could find balm for his pain there, “I know I will have to move into that suite, but I think it will be easier if I can see somebody else there first.” Starr finally agreed and the three of them discussed what had been done in Highever until Marcail joined them after he cleaned himself up from the hunt. He hopped onto the sofa next to his mother and announced there would be lots of food tonight.

With Fergus’ arrival, Starr could relax a bit more. The days developed a pattern and rhythm as she spent time with Marcail and learned about governing from Anora, Fergus and Oswyn. Their differing perceptions and outright disagreements helped her form the structure of government and politics in her mind. Sanga, Zevran and the midwife insisted she take naps and they became a part of her routine. With Fergus and Samuels around, she was no longer needed to help teach bow and dagger, a task she willingly relinquished. She continued walking through the castle grounds and the town of Highever. This made her guards nervous but she insisted. If she stayed inside Castle Cousland as they wanted she would surely go insane.

She was sitting on a rise overlooking the town and castle almost two weeks after they left the city. It was peaceful and one of her favorite places. She was gazing in the direction of Denerim, wondering what was happening when she felt the air shimmer. She looked at her guard but he apparently didn’t notice anything. Then she knew. The Archdemon was gone. She rose to get ready to leave. She might have to wait for official word but she was going to be ready when it came. She felt lighter than she had for days as she returned to the castle. It would be good to be home with Alistair.

Her initial anticipation gave way to dread as the afternoon wore on. She only picked at her dinner and retired to her room as soon afterwards as she could. Zevran found her unpacking and repacking what few belongings she had with her. “Going somewhere, bellissima?” he purred, his tone forced as he sought to put her at ease. “Earlier this afternoon you seemed happy, but now you are obviously worried about something. Tell Zevran what troubles you, my comely cousin.”

Marcail was in the small parlor with Anora and Oswyn playing chess, so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Mindful of propriety, something Anora had harped about, Starr left the door open but moved back further into the room and sat down where she couldn’t be overheard. Zevran sat next to her and gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear as he waited. “The Archdemon is dead and something is wrong with Stair. I need to go to him.” Starr explained why she felt that way. It was a relief to be able to talk to somebody.

Zevran took her hand in his, not sure how to proceed. He knew the bond between his beloved cousin and her templar was strong, but this was beyond anything he understood. “How sure are you, my dear?” he questioned softly. “I have heard that pregnant women can be more prone to extremes of mood or emotion. Are you sure you are not letting your perfectly natural worries and hopes play havoc with your state of mind? We all hope for a quick end to this annoying dragon and worry for our friends and family in harm’s way.”

Starr rested her head on his shoulder, “I, I understand why you might think that, Zev. It sounds crazy. It’s not logical, I don’t know it with my head but I feel it in my heart and soul.”

“Well, you were right about the darkspawn attacking Denerim. I shall go speak to Fergus. We shall need his help and I think it best not too many people are aware of your plans. If you are correct we should receive word soon enough. You do know I will not let you return alone?” Zevran demanded.

Word came sooner than expected. Dawn came and Starr had finally fallen into a fitful sleep when there was a knocking at her door followed by a maidservant coming into her room with a guard. They were trying not to wake Marcail where he slept on a cot in the dressing room. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty,” the nervous servant whispered urgently, “there is a strange woman who insists on speaking to you. She’s in the main hall and refuses to leave. She said her name is M-moira, no Mor-“

“Morrigan?” Starr questioned sharply. When the maid nodded, she reached for a borrowed robe. The guard and maidservant tactfully withdrew so she could quickly wrap it around her. She didn’t bother with clothes or boots, if Morrigan was here she couldn’t waste time. When she stepped into the hallway, Fergus and Zevran were already waiting. When they got to the main hall, sure enough it was Morrigan standing there disdainfully as always. Calm settled over Starr. She knew why the witch was here. “Stair is hurt, isn’t he? The Archdemon is gone but not before . . .”

“I will never understand this bond you have with the templar, but you are correct. The Wardens successfully defeated it, but not before it concentrated its remaining energies and dealt Alistair a potentially deadly blow. I flew here as fast as I could so you could go to him. He was unconscious when I left, as were the other two Wardens, but I have no doubts about their recovery. Now I must leave.” She strode towards the door and then turned back to her, “I may not care for your husband overly much but I have come to respect him. I consider you a friend, something you and the Warden taught me, and I wish you to be happy with your man and the life growing inside you. Farewell, friend.” And she was out the door before any could respond.

“Remind me never to doubt you again, bellissima, not when it concerns your handsome husband. Teyrn Cousland, what do you suggest?” Zevran turned to Fergus.

“We have an old coach that Howe didn’t destroy. It’s rather large so we didn’t use it very often. The horses that used to pull it are gone, but we can use some of the dray or farm animals to pull it. It will be faster than walking but not faster than sailing. When you spoke to me earlier, Zevran, I sent word to Bann Alfstanna. Our ship was destroyed but I asked her if she had one available to please send it here right away.” He noticed Starr turning green at the prospect of another journey by boat. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but that will be the fastest way. And going back will take less time than coming here since the winds will be in your favor.”

Starr closed her eyes, resigned to traveling by water once again. She just knew that a ship was already on its way here. “Very well, when the ship arrives I will be on it. Milord, if you will please prepare the coach. As soon as official word comes from Denerim, I am sure you will want to leave and see your sister. Will you bring Marcail with you? I would prefer to see the situation for myself and prepare the way for his arrival. Oswyn, Sanga and Anora can come with you as well as the Redcliffe guards that do not accompany me. Fen will be more useful to you on the road than to me on the ship.” She sighed and looked at Zevran. “I already know you’re not going to let me go without you and the midwife.” Starr frowned a little and muttered as she left the room, “I wish she would tell me her name. I feel silly calling her ‘midwife’ after all this time. She’s seen me naked.”

When Bann Alfstanna and her ship arrived, Starr was sitting by Marcail’s side waiting. She had packed for the last time and just watched over her boy until it was time to go. Zevran had informed Sanga of what was happening, and it was Sanga who brought the news that the ship had arrived. “Starr, it’s time. We’ll take care of Marcail.”

“I hope I don’t have to leave him again for a very long time,” Starr whispered back. She brushed his hair off his head and then leaned down to gently wake him. “Marcail, wake up. I have something to tell you.” She waited until her son sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Do you remember Morrigan?” Marcail nodded his head sleepily, “She brought news. The Wardens won, but your father was badly injured. I’m leaving right now to go take care of him. Fergus, Teyrn Cousland, will be bringing you and Sanga in just a few days. He’s waiting for another messenger. He needs to get a few things organized, help him in any way you can. I love you, Marcail. And I know your father wants to see you as soon as possible.” She gathered him into her arms and hugged him tight.

Marcail squeezed his arms around her neck, “Love you too, Mom. Tell Dad I love him, ok? And to follow all your rules so he gets better soon.” Starr chuckled and promised she would tell him. She left then and Sanga sat with Marcail until it was time to get up.


	71. Home at Last

Fergus was right about one thing; the trip back took less time than the trip to Highever. The entire thirty some hours Starr stood at the front facing into the wind and refusing to give in to the nausea that plagued her once again. Mentally, she kept up a litany for Alistair’s well being as if by repeating the words she could somehow insure his health and safety. “Emma lath, stay with us. We need you. I need you. I love you so very, very much. I’m coming, emma vhenan.” If sometimes a tear found its way to her cheek, she pretended it was from the wind. Zevran left her side only briefly to talk to Bann Alfstanna.

When they docked in Denerim Starr left the ship as soon as she could loosen her grip from the railing. “Bellissima, I am glad Nirelle finished the dark blue you now wear. You look much less green in this than in the sage,” Zevran teased, his smile not diminishing one whit when she glared at him. He even had the audacity to laugh when she muttered that she hated him. “Nonsense, you adore me. If you thought about it, you would realize you feel better. As soon as we are on a surface that doesn’t move under our feet, you will feel better still. Come; let us go to the side of your languishing lover.”

The Harbormaster hurried onto the pier to greet her, “Your Majesty, we weren’t expecting you so soon, it is a great pleasure to see you. We’ve been busy fixing up the damage caused by the darkspawn. Thanks to you it wasn’t worse.”

“It is good to see you as well,” Starr couldn’t help smiling at the man’s exuberance. “Would you lend me your arm? I am not a very good sailor, I’m afraid.”

He was puffed with pride to be escorting the queen, but he was also a kind man beneath his crusty persona, “Well, these weren’t the best circumstances, were they? Try again when you don’t have so much working against you, you might find your sea legs then. I suppose you’ll want to get right to the palace? I’ll take you over to Sergeant Kylon and he can guide you through the safest areas. Can’t have you and the little one you’re carrying falling into a pit, can we?” Somewhat bemused Starr just let herself be guided along, nodding or shaking her head where appropriate.

The sight of the Harbormaster with a beautiful woman was unusual enough to cause people to stare. If she noticed some of the looks that followed them, she gave no indication of it. Zevran noticed. Some of the comments reached him, “That’s quite a looker with Harbormaster,” “. . . Her Majesty,” “I hear she’s with child already,” “That’s the queen? King’s a lucky bastard isn’t he?” “. . . love match . . .” “. . . king’s ill, near death they say,” “Poor thing, awful young to be a widow,” “Me wife and sister made it on a boat to Highever, Maker bless Her Majesty,” “Those darkspawn made a mess of things . . .” He was impressed by the amount of clearing out and rebuilding already begun. He had to admire the resilience of these Fereldans.

Finally, they reached the Palace. Sergeant Kylon took his leave and the guard on duty escorted them to an undamaged entrance. The first person they saw inside was Seneschal Gerod. The elderly man’s face lit up when he saw them, “Your Majesty, you’ve returned. This is good news. The Palace suffered surprisingly little damage.” His face grew grave, “His Majesty was badly hurt but he’s much better. I’ll take you to him immediately.”

Impulsively Starr kissed his cheek, “Thank you, Gerod. I’ve heard so much about how well you’ve been organizing things. Denerim owes you much.”

Gerod flushed with embarrassed pleasure, “You-you’re too kind. I’m sure you’ll want to rest after your trip. I’ll have some food and tea sent up as soon as you see His Majesty.” As soon as they reached the throne room he scurried away to let the staff know Her Majesty was back.

“You have another admirer, my dear cousin,” Zevran noted with amusement. Then he added with all seriousness, "Once you satisfy yourself as to the health of your Alistair I want you to eat and rest. It may not be obvious to most but I know you too well. You have not been taking good enough care of yourself. Alistair will not thank me if he gets better only to have you take his place.”

“Nag, nag, nag,” Starr mumbled. When Zevran just stared at her, his eyebrow raised and arms crossed she agreed. “Fine, I could use a cup of tea anyway. And once I see Stair I’ll take a nap, I promise.”

Alistair was carefully listening to reports about rebuilding areas affected by the darkspawn when he sensed her presence. He looked up and saw her standing there, tall, proud, beautiful and his. “Excuse me, gentlemen, you have given me much to consider but right now I have something of grave importance to attend to. Thank you,” he said and quickly left the throne and strode towards the pair by the door. Zevran stepped aside while the two new monarchs stared at each other. Alistair reached for her, buried his hands in her hair, and kissed her hungrily, then tenderly. Alistair stroked her cheekbones gently, “I knew you were coming. How are you, emma sa’lath? You look tired, stunning but tired.” He moved to rest his hand over her abdomen as if he could touch the life inside.

“Morrigan told me you were near death. I was so worried Stair. Ma’arlath,” Starr said quietly. She laced her fingers with his and leaned against him. “I’m tired, that’s all. Apparently neither of us has our sea legs.”

Alistair spoke to Teagan over his shoulder, “Bann Teagan, Her Majesty and I will be conferring in our quarters. I won’t see you again until our meeting this evening, barring another emergency.” His hungry eyes never left his bride as he spoke. His arm around her waist he started to guide his wife to their rooms but Zevran stopped him just before they left the room.

“Alistair, Your Majesty,” he smirked as he added Alistair’s newest title, “the celestial Starr needs to eat and rest. She was not exaggerating when she said she was not a good sailor. She has had neither food nor sleep since we left Highever.”

“I’ll make sure she gets both, thank you, Zevran. I have to admit it’s been rather dull without your, umm, observations,” Alistair ignored Starr’s glowering expression. “He’s right my love, we can talk while we eat then a nap for both of us, I think. Wynne will be happy. She’s been nagging me since yesterday to take it easy. I told her you were coming and I wanted to be ready.”

Starr snorted, “Maybe they can have a nagging contest. The loser has to stay silent for a week.” Alistair chuckled and gave her a quick kiss. “But then we’d have to hear a lot of their nagging, I mean friendly concern.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and leaned into Alistair. She was tired, even if she didn’t want to admit it. A few hours alone with Alistair in a room that didn’t move with the wind sounded like paradise.

Zevran joined Shale and Loghain where they stood against the wall. He would hunt down the others later. Loghain was brooding and watching the departing couple, “Are they always like that?” he wondered.

Shale rumbled in answer, “The double its were uncommonly restrained, I admit. Whether it’s out of a sense of decorum or fatigue, I know not. It is a relief not to see them squishing against each other as usual. I don’t know how you soft creatures stand it.” Zevran grinned and chuckled at Loghain’s disbelieving expression.

“It is true, what my stalwart rocky friend says. Even I, with all my experience, have never seen such frequent and open displays of passion or affection between a married couple. Well, not if they were married to each other. Loghain, may I call you Loghain?”

“That’s my name and my only title now, except for Warden,” Loghain answered gruffly, hoping for a change of subject.

Pleased, Zevran continued, “I do not know if you recognize me, I was one of the Crows you hired to assassinate the Grey Wardens.”

Loghain raised an eyebrow and looked more closely at the elf. “I thought you looked familiar,” he said sardonically.

Not at all perturbed Zevran cheerily added, “I must report to you that I have failed in my mission.”

“You don’t say,” the former Teyrn grunted. His dour manner eased a bit when Zevran informed him that Anora made it safely to Highever and would be returning shortly, but that was his only acknowledgement.

While Zevran gathered news from various companions and other sources, Alistair and Starr made their way to their quarters. Alistair commented on the status of the rebuilding. Once they reached their sitting room, he poured his wife some tea and made her sit down. He snagged a plate of biscuits and cheese before settling next to her so she could snuggle against him. For several minutes they just sat quietly, savoring the fact they were alive and together again. Alistair pressed soft kisses on her hair and face, “How is Marcail? Why didn’t he come with you?” He started loosening the fastenings on her vest and blouse.

Starr traced the design on his shirt with her fingers, “Marcail is doing quite well. Oswyn has been tutoring him with some assistance from Anora. She’s been quite a help sorting out the mess Howe made, both here and in Highever. Thank the Maker and Creators Elissa didn’t see the state of her home.” She shook her head and shuddered at how devastated Elissa would have been, “Stair, his men didn’t even bother cleaning up most of the castle. The bodies of Fergus’ wife and child were still lying on the floor where they’d been murdered. Fergus was always so proud when he spoke of Oren.”

“Maker,” Alistair breathed, horrified. “I’m so sorry you had to face that, emma lath, but I’m glad you were able to spare Elissa. I suppose we should be thankful these corpses didn’t walk and attack.” He hugged Starr closer to him.

Starr nodded in agreement. “Fortunately we had time to establish some order before Fergus returned. He’ll be coming with Marcail and the rest soon.”

“You didn’t tell me he was alive. Elissa will be thrilled,” Alistair commented. He started nibbling her ear, “I’ll be glad to see Marcail; it’s about time we were able to live together as a family. One that will soon be bigger,” he whispered and placed his hand over the child they created together. He couldn’t resist trying to sense the babe even though it was still fairly early.

“Morrigan came to Highever. I knew you were hurt, Stair. She told me you were near death,” Starr reached her hand under his shirt and pressed it over his heart. She kissed the pulse in his neck as if to reassure herself. He told her everything. Starr paled at what could have happened to their child and agreed with Alistair’s decision. Secretly, she was relieved that Loghain did the Ritual; she had to admit to herself that she was jealous at the very thought of Alistair being with Morrigan, even under the circumstances. “Are you sure you weren’t tempted, even for a minute? I got the impression Morrigan was quite skilled, certainly more than I am. I hope you don’t plan on me becoming a brunette . . .”

“Of course not! How could you think . . .” Alistair’s eyes narrowed when he saw the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. That turned into a frown when he added, “Now a redhead might be interesting.” He snickered, “but nothing can be better than my gorgeous silvery blond wife.” Starr laughed when he pulled her into his lap and smacked her bottom before kissing her thoroughly. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

Starr looked at him, “I don’t think this is what Wynne and Zevran meant by taking a nap.” She started nibbling on his lip as he reverently began undressing her. She gasped when he began toying with her nipples. He stopped and looked at her in concern, “They’re just a bit more sensitive, nothing’s wrong,” she explained. Relieved Alistair gentled his touch and tenderly stroked her flesh as he removed the rest of her clothes. He feathered her body with soft kisses before he finished removing his own clothing.

“They want us to rest,” Alistair answered as he returned to her side. He placed his hand over her abdomen and began tracing circles, fascinated by the slight swelling. He rolled and braced himself above her. He nuzzled the curve of her neck and shoulder, “I always feel more relaxed after we’re together.” Slowly he entered her, she was wet and hot and his slow pace was driving her wild. “More refreshed,” he entered her completely and rolled them over so she was on top and he could grip her hips, holding her against him. He loved the way she leaned over him, her hair forming a silvery curtain around them and creating a private fantasy world. “Home,” and thrust deeply into her. She clenched around him and they rode together. When she collapsed, he wrapped his arms around, holding her to him. She fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart against her ear and his hand stroking her hair. He fell asleep happy in the knowledge that his family would be together soon.

That was the last respite they had. Some days the only time Alistair and Starr saw each other before nightfall was at breakfast. Starr put her foot down and declared that they deserved to start the day with just the family. The first person who tried to breach the breakfast hour with a non-emergency left with his ears blistered and the threat of having to sift through the midden heap if he repeated the offense. The poor man was so shaken that he managed to lock himself into a closet and never returned to the Bann waiting for an answer. In the years to come, Starr and Alistair would occasionally invite somebody to share breakfast with them. These invitations, rare as the most precious gem, became highly prized by the recipients.

The people of Denerim quickly grew accustomed to seeing their king and queen inspecting the city and assessing the rebuilding. Magic seemed to surround them when they walked the city together, their love for each other a warm glow. It didn’t hurt that they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or share a pint. Well, Alistair shared a pint while Starr limited herself to an occasional sip of his. That they treated elves, dwarves and humans with equal courtesy did not go unnoticed. Starr and Alistair talked to many people as they strove to put Ferelden back on its feet. A few days later messengers from Highever arrived and announced the imminent arrival of Prince Marcail and party. Their family was finally going to be together again and Eamon could arrange for the coronation. The excitement in the air was practically visible.

When the coach pulled up Marcail jumped out almost before it stopped. Fen, who had opted to travel alongside, joined him in running up the steps of the palace where Starr and Alistair were coming down to meet him. “Mom! Dad! We finally got here, it took forever,” he cried. “I learned lots and lots from Oswyn and Anora. I mean Lord Oswyn and Mistress Anora. I even remember some of it,” he sketched an oddly graceful bow to his parents. “Are we finally together now? Did you give the Archdemon what for like you said you would? Those darkspawn sure messed up Denerim. We passed some of the soldiers going to get the women back from Highever. They said things could have been a lot worse. I think they’ll be glad to get home.” The whole time he was chattering Fen was gracefully weaving among them while the others left the coach. In the excitement, Fergus was able to sneak away until he could surprise Elissa.

_. . . . . . . ._

Today was coronation day. The sun burned away the early morning haze while the streets of Denerim were filled with people ready to take part in the celebrations. Merchants selling food and drink set up early, Sanga’s baths had been busy for days. Those not in the Landsmeet where the ceremony would take place hoped to get a glimpse of the Royal family as they toured the city. Maybe they would even get to speak with them, something they could tell their children about. Everybody agreed that it was nice to have rulers who seemed interested in the average person. Before the coronation, the Revered Mother was escorted to the family quarters. Bann Teagan and Bella, Sanga and Oskar were already there, among others. Marcail was proudly holding two rings on a small platter. When the cleric arrived, Zevran stepped forward while Oskar and Teagan notified Alistair and Starr.

When Alistair joined her, Zevran and Marcail at the front of the room the Revered Mother began speaking, “Today is a day for new beginnings for Ferelden, for Denerim, and for Alistair Theirin and Starrelena Feyorlin Theirin. It is a blessed day. Alistair and his Starr were married in Orzammar and the love they share for each other is a beautiful thing to see; yet it is a pale reflection of the love our Maker shares with Andraste and would with us if we let him. I see the love they share as a symbol for all of us, of hope for a joy that we can all strive for. Their bond has already withstood many challenges and remained not only unbroken but strengthened. Today, on this day of beginnings they wish to repeat their vows so they can share their joy and love with the friends and family who, understandably, were not present the first time. Let us begin.” As she spoke, Teagan and Oskar escorted Starr to Alistair’s side, Marcail standing excitedly between him and Zevran. The Revered Mother did not mention that none of them wanted any claims about the legitimacy of their marriage to plague them in years to come. Records from Brother Burkel in Orzammar still had not made it to the Chantry in Denerim.

Tears ran unabashedly down Oskar’s face as he witnessed the ceremony. He clasped Sanga to him when he heard her sniffing away her own happy tears. Teagan and Bella clasped hands, remembering their wedding day not so long ago. Leliana was thinking how their love story rivaled that of Alindra’s but had the fortune of having a happy ending. They were such a beautiful family and their dress today raised that beauty to almost mythical status. Cailan’s dress armor refitted and polished to mirror status suited Alistair. The bard thought it appropriate, a symbol of respect and continuity. Marcail showed signs of the handsome man he would become, the blue of his eyes intensified by the deep blue dress clothes trimmed with dull gold. Starr looked even lovelier than on her first wedding day, if that were possible. She’d needed Nirelle to alter her wedding dress and the woman had incorporated shimmery gold silk and lace. After they spoke their vows they placed the gold bands etched with a design of suns and stars on each other’s finger and recited the words inscribed inside. Romance resonated in the air with the words ‘Emma lath. Emma vhenan. Emma falon.’

After the ceremony was complete Marcail tugged on their hands, “The kissy face stuff can wait. Dad has to have his cornary now.” Alistair and Starr looked at each other and grinned in perfect understanding. They knelt down on either side of him and gave him a loud, sloppy kiss on each cheek. While the adults laughed Marcail scrubbed his face, “Eeuw, Mo-om, Da-ad, yuck.” He quickly left them to join his friend Bevin who came to Denerim with Bella.

Laughing, Alistair declared, “Marcail is right about one thing. We need to go to the coronation. Are you ready, my love?” Thus, the official day began with laughter and good spirits. That good humor lasted throughout the very long day. The official ceremony was at the Palace, of course. The Landsmeet room was filled beyond capacity. Alistair walked up the aisle hand in hand with Starr to kneel before the Grand Cleric as she crowned them. Marcail and Bevin cheered loudly when they turned around to wave at the crowds before them. There were more cheers when Alistair presented Elissa as the Hero of Ferelden and the one who slew the Archdemon. The cheers turned into an uproar at the joy on Elissa’s face when the person presenting the medal was none other than her brother Fergus. In addition to giving Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens, there were several other boons before the ceremony ended.

The crowds outside happily greeted Elissa, the Hero of Ferelden. The cheers followed her as she strolled through the city. The cheers were almost as loud for the newly crowned King and Queen as they visited all the different areas of Denerim with the young prince. Marcail didn’t totally understand why people were cheering for them but he waved at them all. When a little girl fell down after getting accidentally pushed, he ran forward and helped her up. He gave her a little bow causing her to giggle and Alistair and Starr to smile at each as they remembered another young boy and girl.

There remained only one thing to do before turning in for the night. Understandably, Loghain had thought it best not to attend the ceremonies and Anora had kept him company for much of the day. It was the last day they would see each other for Loghain would be leaving before dawn. Starr entered the suite temporarily put aside for the Wardens and knocked on Loghain’s door. Loghain was surprised to see her, “Your Majesty, did you get lost? It is a large palace.”

“I needed to speak to you privately. Elissa is with Fergus and you probably won’t see her again until morning. Would you join me?” Nervously she motioned him to the sofa of the shared sitting room. He sat down, his eyes narrowing when she sat down beside him, and waited. Starr made several false starts before muttering, “This is stupid.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you,” she said and placed his hand on the life growing inside her. “I know.” She let go of his hand when she saw he understood.

Loghain couldn’t help smiling at the young woman. It couldn’t have been easy for her to come to him, and he respected her for the effort. “It could have been worse, it could have been her mother,” he said drily.

Starr blushed and laughed. “There is something else,” she said and handed him an envelope with the Grey Warden seal. “We both know that Stair cannot revoke your sentence or he will seem weak. Even if he wanted to. Neither of us is so stupid about politics to not understand that,” Starr hastened to add. “But there is one thing we can do, what you choose to do about it is entirely up to you. In that envelope is a letter to whoever your Warden-Commander is at the time of your calling. In that letter is a royal pass allowing you safe passage to Amaranthine. From there the Wardens will escort you to Orzammar by whatever route they feel best.” Loghain understood what she didn’t say, that he could take the time to see Anora and his homeland one more time before he died, assuming he had the opportunity. It was a generous boon under the circumstances and he understood why it was Starr rather than Alistair speaking to him now.

Gravely he thanked her, “This is more than I had any reason to expect. I believe Ferelden is in good hands, certainly better than mine. Take care of her and your family.” He stood when she rose and accompanied her to the door. Before he opened the door for her, he thought of Cailan, “Try avoiding mud in the future.”

Astonished she looked at him before snickering, “And you as well.” Loghain smiled as he closed the door behind her.


	72. Amaranthine a Few Months Later

She was going to Amaranthine. The Orlesian Wardens, finally allowed entry, had gone immediately to Vigil’s Keep, which allowed her some time for herself. The first thing she had done was to go home with Fergus and help him finish straightening out Howe’s mess. Hearing some of the stories, she was beyond grateful Starr had gone to Highever and, with the help of the women of Denerim, done much of the initial repairs. She and Fergus had enough to keep them busy but they weren’t overwhelmed. Tears still came to her eyes when she thought of the memorial service they’d had for their family and the other victims of Howe’s greed. Her parents at least had enjoyed a rich and full life, but the sight of little Oren’s remains hurt. She appreciated that Alistair, Starr, Marcail, Zevran and Leliana had come to pay their respects. Zevran took his duties as roving Security Minister seriously. It might be a private title but any who challenged his decisions came to regret it. Starr and Alistair used that status to justify his having his own room in the family quarters. The castle full of people made those days a little easier. She and Alistair also found a small site to honor Duncan’s memory.

While she was still at Highever, she kept in touch with Vigil’s Keep. She _was_ Warden-Commander of Ferelden, after all. She was standing at Duncan’s memorial when she sensed a familiar presence. Climbing up the hill were two Wardens. She stood there waiting. Bertram and Ernesto were from the Free Marches and had been in some vicious battles with the darkspawn. Injuries kept them from ever actively fighting again, but their Commander felt they had skills that might be useful as Elissa rebuilt the order in Ferelden. Bertram was an excellent teacher/trainer and Ernesto was a mage who was also a skilled archivist and dedicated scholar. Just as important, they knew the Joining Ritual. When she left Highever for Soldier’s Peak, they went with her.

She and Alistair had decided that Soldier’s Peak would be the private home of the Wardens since Amaranthine would have to be more open to the public than was normal for a Grey Warden installation. They would be running an arling, after all. As a rule, new recruits would be taken to the Peak for the Joining, though it could be done in Amaranthine if necessary. Ernesto would begin keeping detailed records about the recruits: their personalities, skills, abilities, backgrounds, who survived and who didn’t. Elissa and Alistair shared the hope that in time they would have a better success rate in the Joining. Thankfully, Levi Dryden and his family were happy to stay at the Peak. Not only could they be of service to the Wardens they had a safe place to store goods and operate out of the reach of any bandits. As Alistair quipped, they now had the Peak and the Keep.

Recruitment was easier whenever the Hero of Ferelden was around. Elissa supposed she should be grateful to Alistair even if she did feel like a fraud. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Alistair’s actions that killed the Archdemon and why its last blow was aimed at her friend. She remembered what he said when she confronted him after the coronation, “I’m the king and my efforts helped end the Blight. Being the one to actually kill the Archdemon would only help me to a small degree. You are the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and have the difficult task of rebuilding the Order. It will be a lot easier for you if people think _you_ were the one to slay the dragon. I may not be an active member of the order any longer but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a sense of responsibility.” He hesitated before continuing, “In the letter he wrote me before he died Cailan told me he used to wish for a brother or sister to share in the ‘burden of being Maric’s son.’ I got the feeling he saw Maric more as a legend he couldn’t live up to rather than a father and just a man trying to do his best. I don’t want Marcail to feel that way about me.” Elissa didn’t believe it would matter to Marcail. Alistair was a truly noble and good man; that was a strong example and high bar for any child to emulate. She did acknowledge that it would help the Grey Wardens if she were the designated Hero more than it might help him.

_“Now I am finally on my way back to Vigil’s Keep.”_ Memories swarmed through Elissa’s mind as they approached Howe’s former home. She and Delilah were two giggling girls tagging along after their older brothers or deliberately ignoring them as they did girl things. Fergus looked up to Nathaniel, just two years older but seemed capable of just about anything. Thomas was an amiable boy and pretty much did what the others wanted to do. _“How strange to be coming back under these circumstances. In a sense, I’m the conqueror. I wonder if Delilah stayed on, we lost touch a few years ago. Could Howe have arranged that to make sure we got no hint of his plans? If Nat had been here instead of the Free Marches, could he have stopped his father? The Nathaniel Howe I knew would stand up to the Archdemon itself. Thomas was nice but not a suspicious child. It would have been easy for his father to lie and he would have accepted it without question. I heard he died fighting. I wonder . . .”_ her thoughts were interrupted by an all too familiar tingling. “Darkspawn,” she said quietly to her traveling companions, Griffon and Mhairi, a young soldier from Denerim. They leapt into action as one of guards came running out of Vigil’s Keep with a few genlocks on his tail.

That was how the new Warden-Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens was welcomed to her new home. Slaying darkspawn right and left while picking up new companions. Well, Oghren was a familiar face. She thought she recognized the mage, Anders was his name. They reached Varel, the seneschal, before he could be executed at the hands of a talking darkspawn. Mhairi’s friend and fellow recruit Rowland wasn’t simply delirious after all. The talking darkspawn was more intelligent and tougher than most but eventually he fell beneath her blade. Then they noticed the troops coming down the road.

It was Alistair. With him were some of his guard and a group of templars. Elissa knelt before him even though he had told her she didn’t have to but she didn’t want any rumors flying around that the Grey Wardens of Ferelden didn’t pay due deference to the crown. She smiled to herself when he didn’t protest her actions as he used to. He was learning. Mhairi was flustered as a young girl at her first dance. Oghren was, well, Oghren. “How’s Her Dwarvalusciousness?” the dwarf leered and belched.

Alistair thought it was nice some things didn’t change, though he would have preferred it to be something else that was unchanging. “Radiantly beautiful as always and a wee bit cranky now that the babe is growing,” he answered cheerfully. Only Elissa noticed tension behind the smile. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner, I rather miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing. How do things stand?” Varel reported on the events and Alistair’s eyes widened at the implications. Talking darkspawn and darkspawn acting intelligently outside of a Blight?

Ser Rylock, the lead templar, interrupted impatiently, “Your Majesty, this man is a dangerous criminal!”

Alistair chose to deliberately misunderstand her. Unlike Elissa he recognized Anders right away, “Oh, I admit the dwarf is a bit of an ass -” Elissa spoke up for the mage and invoked the Right of Conscription when the Templar proved stubbornly determined to see Anders hanged as a murderer.

Based on what was happening here in Amaranthine Elissa knew one of the first things she needed to do was send a message to the Peak. Alistair waited until the templars were well on their way to Amaranthine and his soldiers occupied with helping the survivors secure the keep. He walked with Elissa, taking in the damage and letting her speak until they were far enough away not to be heard. “Elissa, I need a favor, and under the circumstances it’s a _huge_ favor. I want to take Anders back to Denerim with me to check on Starr and I can’t wait to see if he survives the Joining. Starr’s pregnancy, it’s not normal. I remember Wynne saying Anders is a gifted healer.” When it looked like Elissa might protest he added, “Wynne’s worried.”

Elissa didn’t need to hear any more. If Wynne was worried then there was real cause for concern. “Alright Alistair. As soon as he sees to the wounded here and makes sure they are on the way to recovery, he can go with you. Judging by that Ser Rylock I will ask you to bring him back yourself. I think you’re the only authority she’ll answer to, or at least not openly engage in battle. I’ll need a few days anyway to make sure Vigil’s Keep is in order and find out what’s going on in Amaranthine before I can start tracking down these new darkspawn.”

“I’ll do even better. Once he and Wynne have conferred and Starr is settled, I will take Anders and any other recruits waiting in Denerim to the Peak. Bertram and Ernesto can prepare the Joining for all of them. Once that’s done, I will escort them here personally. You’re also going to need some regular troops. I’ll send some of my more experienced and discreet soldiers to you here, they’ll be honored to help the Hero of Ferelden,” Alistair promised. “It’s a good thing I planned on this being my last stop after seeing the rest of the Bannorn before heading home. Other than bringing Anders back to you I won’t be leaving again until after the baby is born, Maker willing.”

“One thing I’ve always admired about Starr is her strength. Give her my best but I’m sure she’ll be fine and you’ll be back here with Anders in no time. I’ll go tell him right away,” Elissa left him looking in the direction of Denerim.

Anders was busy seeing to the wounded. “Anders, I need a word,” Elissa spoke to him and walked away, expecting him to follow. He did so even though he rolled his eyes. Of course following her gave him an excellent opportunity to notice the nice sway of her hips. Once they were far enough away to not be overheard, Elissa turned around. “How are the wounded, anything serious to be watched for?” she asked. Satisfied there was nothing she couldn’t handle she nodded. “Good. As soon as possible, you will be going back to Denerim with His Majesty. As you may know, the queen is pregnant and he’s worried. He remembered you from Redcliffe and that Wynne said you were a talented healer.”

“What about my Joining, and the templars? Can’t I leave after my Joining?” he whined even though Elissa was already shaking her head.

“The Joining can be . . . difficult and we have no idea if it may temporarily interfere with a mage’s abilities. Alistair, once he’s satisfied that you’ve done all you can and Starr is in no immediate danger, will personally escort you and potential recruits waiting in Denerim to our other base for the Joining. Some new Wardens are already there being trained. He will then escort all of you here.” Anders still looked mutinous. “I think you might remember her. I believe you not only danced with her but proposed to her in Redcliffe. Anders, Wynne is worried.”

“Oh right. The templars were annoyed with her. Wynne’s really worried?” Elissa nodded her head gravely. “Then I’ll go. Anyway, it can’t hurt for the king and queen to owe me a favor. I’ll write out a list of instructions for each patient and what medical supplies we’re low on and then I’ll be ready to go.” He quickly went back to the wounded, humming as he remembered the gorgeous woman who argued with the templars on behalf of the mages. Prudently, he hadn’t told Elissa how many nights alone on the road he passed the time fantasizing about the silver beauty and now he was going to help her. He really hoped for her sake it was just a case of the father overreacting.

When Alistair and company moved, they moved quickly. Normally it would be several days before they reached Denerim and Alistair was hoping to shorten their trip considerably. They were halfway to Denerim before Alistair relaxed enough for Anders to feel comfortable approaching him. Alistair might be king, but it was his Grey Warden skills he was using to avoid any darkspawn. “So, um, Your Majesty, could you tell me something about Her Majesty that might help me? I remember a beautiful woman but that’s not exactly helpful, medically speaking. What is Wynne worried about and how is this different from her last pregnancy? Were there any complications then? What has she been doing?”

Alistair stopped staring at the night stars and turned his attention to the mage. The questions were fair enough under the circumstances but answering them without invading Starr’s privacy could be tricky. “Any information I give you is confidential between you and Wynne, nobody else.” Anders inclined his head; that was a no brainer code of conduct for a healer. Alistair started with the easiest question to answer, “I have a feeling Wynne hasn’t told me all her concerns but I do know she’s worried about her size. She said Starr is bigger than normal for this stage of her pregnancy, almost seven months. Starr tires much more easily than she should. She really doesn’t eat full meals; instead, she nibbles throughout the day. Wynne doesn’t think she’s eating enough. And she is constantly in pain, on good days it is just moderate discomfort. Wynne says every pregnancy is different, even with the same mother, and I don’t think she would be so worried if it were just one thing. What I’ve noticed is that her heart and breathing seem to be working harder. I swear I can sometimes hear her heart pounding even when she is just sitting quietly.”

“For a few weeks after the coronation she spent some time with Bann Soris, helping him get acclimated to his new status as Bann of the Denerim Alienage Bannorn. Arl, now Teyrn Wulff of Gwaren stayed in Denerim until Arl Eamon could take over the Arling of Denerim and he offered to help teach Soris what he would need to know. Starr couldn’t really help with that other than give Soris moral support and make him more comfortable. When Wynne noticed that all the stairs at the Palace sometimes made her feel faint, she made Starr limit her excursions. For an active person this has been very frustrating for my wife. Fortunately, we were able to set up an office for her near the family quarters so she could work on an idea of hers for a Ferelden communications system. Guards and staff are always available to walk with her and lend her an arm when she gets the urge to walk the hallways. We’ve scheduled visits to the gardens so she can be outside each day and be accompanied by strong arms in case . . .”

Anders had just a glimpse of the anguish Alistair was feeling before he continued. “None of us can tell you how this differs from before. Other than that Starr was very young. Shortly after she realized she was pregnant, her family was attacked. Starr was brutally beaten, tortured and left for dead in the forest. There are . . . there are scars.” Anders winced in sympathy. “She was found and saved but some of the injuries took months to heal, so she can’t give us any information which Wynne can say was definitely due to the pregnancy rather than her injuries. She never had the opportunity to get word to me.” The sadness in Alistair’s voice lingered between them. Anders probed for more details and quickly concluded that Alistair was right; Wynne was not telling him everything.

They continued their rapid pace to Denerim. Anders marveled at the king’s stamina as he and all the soldiers with him were showing signs of fatigue. Yet Alistair looked as if he could continue for days. Anders wondered if it had something to do with being a Grey Warden or more to do with constantly being on the move during the Blight. Nor could he discount the strength of his desire to get home to his family. In the evenings, he asked Alistair questions about being a Grey Warden and about Elissa. Alistair wouldn’t answer many of them, but the questions had the desired effect of taking his mind off what might be happening in Denerim.

Finally, they reached Denerim early one afternoon. At the Palace gates, Alistair thanked his soldiers before dismissing them. He and Anders barely had time to step inside before Zevran greeted them, looking unusually flustered and causing Alistair’s throat to go dry with dread. “Alistair, it is good you are back, Starr . . . the babe is coming and she needs you.” 


	73. Alistair Bloody Theirin

Alistair quickly ran upstairs to get out of his armor and clean himself before joining Starr. Zevran hurried the healer to his rooms and brought him up to date while Anders changed. Starr’s labor began sometime the evening before. They didn’t know exactly when because at first she thought it was just more discomfort. Wynne, the midwife and Sanga were with Starr in a suite that had been prepared for the delivery. Anders nodded, he knew the midwife and Sanga and was satisfied Her Majesty was in capable hands. He wasn’t as prepared for the number of servants and guards in the hallway as they approached the rooms where the queen labored.

“Their Majesties are much beloved here in the Palace. They are all anxious on their behalf,” Zevran said as he opened the door to a medium sized sitting room. He quickly introduced Anders to Arl Teagan and his wife Bella of Redcliffe, Arl Eamon of Denerim, Oskar, the young Prince Marcail, Seneschal Gerod, Fen and Shale before whisking him through a series of doorways and into the bedroom. Zevran took one look at what was happening, and rapidly closed the door and went back to Marcail. He challenged Marcail to a game of chess as a way to keep both their minds off what was happening with his mother. Seeing the worry on Wynne’s face and the strained pallor of his beloved cousin were images he wished to forget. He had to admire Alistair’s fortitude as he sat next to her, gently washing her face with a cool cloth.

Marcail was scared. He had never seen his mother hurt or sick before and he understood enough of what people were saying to know she shouldn’t be in there yet. He spoke to the one person he knew wouldn’t lie to him. “Zev,” he whispered shakily, “is Mom going to die?”

Zevran focused on the young boy in front of him, bravely trying to hide his fear. His throat closed up at the possibility and he forced himself to breathe. “No one can totally predict what will happen, my young friend. Fate is a tricky business. This I can tell you, your mother is one of the strongest and bravest women I know,” he began huskily. “Women give birth every day, even when things are not perfect. With her, to help her, are a skilled midwife and two exceptional healers. Not only that your father is with her, and he would fight the Maker himself if need be.” Marcail sniffed as he listened. He could accept that.

Inside the room, the midwife’s assistant had several clean cloths and towels as well as basins of warm water ready. Anders greeted Wynne and did his own examination. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again after Redcliffe, Your Majesty. You and your husband have been busy. Did you know I’m about to become a Grey Warden?” Anders chatted cheerily to make Starr comfortable with him. Starr was pale and sweating, obviously in great pain even between contractions but at least she didn’t seem feverish. It didn’t take long for Anders to come to a conclusion, and he quickly followed Wynne to a corner where they could confer. They were in agreement.

Upon returning to Starr’s side Wynne addressed the young couple, “I’m glad you brought Anders back with you, Alistair. You, Starr, are not having just one babe. It is not at all unusual for twins to come early, even this early. I don’t think it will be much longer.”

Relieved and stunned, Alistair kissed his wife’s forehead and took her hand in his, “I should have known you wouldn’t do anything by halves, emma lath. I’m glad I made it back here.”

“You didn’t . . . think I would let . . . you miss this, did you?” Starr panted her reply. When the next contraction hit she clutched Alistair’s hand and squeezed. She turned bleary eyes to the healers, “Do . . . do you think . . . you could . . . define . . . not long?”

“Not more than a few hours, I should think,” Anders cheerily replied. “Maybe less,” he added when Alistair looked like he might faint. “You might want to pass the time thinking of names, since you’ll need more than one.” Wynne nodded approvingly, Starr and Alistair needed to concentrate on something productive, and it would help the time pass. Anders told amusing stories of some of his escapes and the Circle cat, Mr. Wiggums. Whenever she had a contraction, Starr squeezed Alistair’s hand.

In the sitting room time passed slowly. Bella had nodded off against Teagan’s shoulder. She was in the early stages of her own pregnancy. Oskar was sipping whisky, staring into the fire and praying for his little girl. Sanga sat next to him, worrying her lip. Gerod was in and out of the suite seeing to whatever was needed, and keeping the staff updated. Marcail and Zevran were playing chess badly, neither able to concentrate. Two silent hours later, they started when a muffled cry came from Starr’s room. The chessboard flew to the floor as Marcail flung himself into Zevran’s arms upon hearing his mother’s pain. Faces were white and tense. Then, surely loud enough to be heard by passersby in the Marketplace, came something completely unexpected, “Alistair Bloody Theirin if you do this to me again I will wrap that precious manhood of yours around a flagpole and hang you from the top of Fort Drakon!”

Even though the men shifted uncomfortably at the thought, there were relieved chuckles all around. “When woman in labor iss yelling at her man like that it iss good sign,” and Oskar burst out laughing.

“The dulcet tones of Her Celestial Majesty ring pleasantly on the ear, do they not?” Zevran quipped, his heart still racing after that first cry. Marcail looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Teagan smothered a pained laugh as he realized what he had to look forward to. Bella just snickered. Gerod coughed quietly behind his hand, though his eyes were twinkling.

Inside Starr was sitting up, leaning against Alistair’s loose embrace. She grabbed onto his forearms to steady herself and pushed when Wynne directed her to do so. Alistair kissed her forehead and continually whispered endearments, manfully ignoring her earlier threat. Anders eased her pain somewhat while he and Wynne concentrated on the delivery. One big push followed by a wail as she screamed out, “Maker and Creators!” Those were the first words their son heard. Anders quickly took the child to examine him while Wynne and the midwife got ready for the next one. He wrapped the boy in clean, warm cloths and handed him to the midwife’s assistant before going back to Starr.

A few minutes later, their daughter was born and Anders once again looked the babe over carefully before cleaning her and wrapping her up warmly. Quickly he pushed the babe into the arms of the assistant when Wynne called out, “Anders, hurry, we need you here.” A few more pushes and a second boy was born. “That’s the last, we just need to do some final clean up, my dear, and then you can see those precious babies of yours. I wasn’t expecting the third one.”

Alistair was stunned. He looked at his wife in amazement, “I can’t believe it. You gave birth to a litter. Three. _Three_!” His voice squeaked and he was shaking his head oblivious of the angry stare his wife was giving him or of Anders biting his lip not to laugh out loud. The midwife didn’t bother hiding her cackle.

“Alistair,” Wynne said with some asperity, “the correct term is triplets, **not** a _litter_.” Her face softened as Alistair blushed in embarrassment. “Never mind, it’s been quite an eventful day. Now move aside for a few moments while we see to your wife.”

The new father moved away to sit in the corner while healers tended to his wife. Anders gently handed over the son he’d been holding. Awkwardly Alistair accepted the tiny bundle, more scared of it than the meanest darkspawn. His baby boy, so tiny and fragile. It was hard to believe that he could have had any part in anything so wonderful. The midwife’s assistant handed him his daughter next. If possible, she was even smaller than her brother. Finally, Anders adjusted the precious bundles in his arms so Alistair could hold all three of his children. He didn’t dare move, but he was able to sit there and hold all of them. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. They were small, wrinkly, and absolutely perfect. The oldest one was the biggest, though that could change over time. He also had dark hair compared to the younger ones. His little girl, Maker help him he had a daughter to look after, had a little dimple in her chin and his youngest son had a smattering of freckles across his nose. He couldn’t believe how much love he already felt for the tiny creatures in his embrace.

He looked across the room at his wife. They’d finished what they needed to do to make sure she was healthy, clean, and comfortable. Sanga had come in and brushed her hair with rosewater to remove some of the sweat. What Alistair saw was the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas, tired circles under eyes that looked back at him with more love than he felt he deserved. He saw a valiant warrior, victorious after a lengthy battle. And he saw a little girl in a purple dress offering him the world. Suddenly confident, he slowly stood up and walked over to his beloved Starr, and carefully handed her their children. He put his arms around the four of them and touched his forehead to Starr’s, “I never thought I could love you any more than I already did, Starrelena Theirin. But you proved me wrong once again. Thank you for my children.” Their lips met in a gentle kiss.

They spoke little other than confirming the names of their children. When Starr’s eyes began to flutter sleepily Wynne finally interceded, “I think, Alistair, it is time for you to introduce Marcail to his new brothers and sister. Starr needs to sleep. The babies will be fine sleeping in here for the time being.” She didn’t want to admit just how tired she was. She was glad Anders was here for a few days. Starr wasn’t the only one who needed some rest. She and Shale would stay for another month and then head to Cumberland for a conference of mages. Maybe she would stop in Amaranthine on the way and try to convince that belligerent botanist, Ines, to come.

Alistair carefully gathered the triplets in his strong arms. Before he walked to the door he spoke to Starr, “I’ll bring Marcail in to visit. Even if you’re already asleep he’ll feel much better if he sees you,” Starr nodded sleepily. “Ma’arlath emma vhenan.” He walked through the door Sanga held open for him. Stunned silence greeted him when the occupants of the sitting room saw Alistair with three, not one but three, tiny bundles in his arms. Alistair went to Marcail and carefully knelt down so he could see his new siblings. “Marcail, I want you to meet your brother Duncan Teague Theirin, your sister Eleanor Monada Theirin and your other brother Aaron Zevander Theirin.”

At the last name, Zevran looked up sharply at Alistair who nodded his head slightly, indicating that indeed the youngest was named after him, if in a sideways fashion. Zevran looked down just as quickly to hide the emotion he knew was visible otherwise. He was extremely touched and vowed to live up to the honor they bestowed upon him.

“No wonder Mom was so cranky.” Marcail’s comment broke the spell that had fallen upon the room with Alistair’s entrance. “Look Fen, Mom had a litter, just like your mom. They’re awfully small,” he added doubtfully.

Mindful of Wynne not too far away Alistair hastened to correct him, “Triplets, Marcail. Your mother had triplets.” Once he settled himself on the sofa so they could all see the new babes, he continued. “You were once about this small. They are all healthy and so is your mother. She’s very tired and might be sleeping but when I take the babies back in to lie down you can come with me and see for yourself.” He smiled to see Marcail comparing himself to the three new additions. He looked up at Gerod, “Gerod, would you go tell the staff the happy news? And Gerod, I think we should celebrate. Give everybody a day off, maybe half tomorrow and half the day after?” Gerod was overcome with Alistair’s generosity and hastened to inform the staff waiting in the hall. There were cheers followed by shushes and giggles as they left the hallway to spread the good news.

Meanwhile champagne and brandy was opened in the sitting room as the friends celebrated the safe arrival of the new baby Theirins. Alistair refused to partake until the triplets were snugly tucked into bed. He stood up and motioned to Marcail so the five of them could go to Starr. A chest had been emptied and padded with blankets until more lasting arrangements could be made. Anders and Wynne both felt that at least for a few days the triplets would fare better if they shared a bed rather than sleep in separate bassinets. As a precaution, they removed the top of the chest before placing it next to Starr. Carefully Alistair placed the babies in their new bed while Marcail climbed up on the big bed with his mother. He stroked his mother’s hair while his father walked around to the far side and climbed in next to Starr. Alistair folded both of them in his embrace. Starr opened her eyes briefly, mumbled Marcail’s name and hugged him to her before drifting back to sleep. Soon Alistair was also asleep, the worry consuming him over the past few weeks finally taking their toll.

When Zevran snuck in a short time later, Marcail put his fingers to his lips and pointed to the sleeping adults and babies. Zevran motioned for him to come away and helped him off the bed so he wouldn’t disturb any of those resting. For just a moment, he allowed all the love he felt for his cousin to show in his eyes. He turned his attention to the king sleeping at her side and smiled. He took one final look at the triplets wrapped in their swaddling clothes before turning away with Marcail. Somebody was going to have to take care of things, and Alistair and Starr were going to need all the help they could get.


	74. More Time

As he had nearly every night for the past two weeks, he looked at the beautiful woman sleeping in the bed next to him and pulled a sheet lightly over her nude form before leaving their bedroom. Their lovemaking was as tender and thrilling and satisfying as it had ever been, for which he thanked the Maker. In fact, for over twenty years he had thanked the Maker on a daily basis for the gift of his wife. Much as he loved their children, would sacrifice for them, even they could never touch the corner of his heart and soul he gave so many years ago to the three year old girl with moonbeams in her hair. As he had nearly every night for the past two weeks he made his way down to the practice area attached to a small armory. There he would practice for hours, driving himself to exhaustion in an increasingly futile effort to avoid dreaming. Even a visit from an old friend didn’t stop him.

As she had nearly every night for the past two weeks, she lay there as silent tears trickled down her face after her husband, lover and dearest friend left her alone in their bed. Something was troubling him, but he wouldn’t talk about it. The sexual side of their marriage had always been vigorous and fulfilling. Recently, however, Alistair had been near insatiable and a sense of desperation had crept into their lovemaking that had never been there before. Tonight she’d had enough. Maybe Zevran’s visit precipitated her change in tactics but she was going to make Alistair talk whether he wanted to or not. Throwing on the nearest robe she could find, she went to confront her errant husband. If she had paid any attention, she would have noticed the blushing guards she left in her wake as she furiously strode past them in her rather transparent attire.

“You left a beautiful woman alone in your bed in order to do this? There are better ways to exhaust yourself my friend, or have you had a blow to your head and forgotten what to do?” Zevran had been watching Alistair savaging a practice dummy for almost an hour. In spite of the mocking tone of his voice, Zevran was concerned. He was even more concerned when Alistair turned to face him; he had never seen such a look of haunted despair in all his life. “Braska!” he sucked in his breath, “what troubles you so, my friend?”

“I’d like to know that as well,” both men whirled around to see an angry Starr staring at Alistair, hands on her hips and the sash of her robe coming loose. Zevran momentarily feasted on the glorious sight of his cousin before wisely and quietly getting out of the way. He wasn’t about to leave the room however, he might be needed to _prevent_ bloodshed, an unusual role for an assassin to be sure. This view of his cousin was simply an added benefit. “Well, Stair, I’m waiting for an answer.” She stalked toward the man she loved. “Is there, is there another woman?” she asked, her voice nearly breaking on the question.

“No! Maker’s breath, no, never,” seeing the tracks her tears had left on her face, and the pain in her deep brown eyes, pain caused by _him_ hurt him as nothing else could. So overwhelmed was he by the knowledge of what his actions had done he barely heard her next question.

“Another man?” she whispered, holding onto her control by a thread. He shook his head in denial and her control snapped. She punched him so hard he fell back a few steps. If he’d been wearing armor instead of just linen britches, she would surely have broken her hand. She shouted at him, “Then what aren’t you telling me?” She strode over to the rack of practice weapons, her robe swirling around her ankles like a living creature. She selected a greatsword that nearly got tangled in her robe. After angrily shrugging it off, she challenged him. “For two weeks you’ve left our bed without a word, only to return sweaty and exhausted when it is almost dawn.” She swung at him, smartly hitting his backside with the flat of her blade. “I knew something was wrong and I waited for you to tell me, you’ve always known I was there for you and you could tell me anything.” She swung again and this time he had the presence of mind to parry her blow. “During the day I’ve pretended with you that nothing was wrong, knowing that at night you would leave me. Again.” She angrily wiped away the tears that began to flow again before attacking. “Tonight you are going to talk to me, damn it. You are not going to put me aside one minute longer.”

Alistair’s next move was possibly the bravest thing he had ever done, he dropped his sword and moved into her attack, wresting the greatsword from her and throwing it away from them. He then pulled her into his arms, saying over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, love.” Starr cried into his neck, even as she kept punching him. She wanted to hurt him in payment for the pain and worry he had caused her. Finally, she calmed down, only shudders wracking her body as he stroked her hair and kept his arms around her. “I was trying not to hurt you,” he whispered. She looked at him in disbelief. “Really. I’ve been worried and I didn’t want to say anything until I knew what was wrong. The only way to not think about it was to wear myself out and avoid sleeping.”

“If you’re saying our lovemaking bores you I am going to hit you again,” Starr chose to deliberately misunderstand him and keep him on the defensive.

“Are you kidding? I can’t imagine a better partner in, in b-bed,” he stuttered, “and I think I’ve proved to you many times I have an imagination. But, um, my, my needs? desire? have increased to the point where I’m afraid of hurting you if we, er, exercise as much as I’m capable.” For the first time in years, Alistair’s face was deep red in embarrassment.

Starr looked at him, half skeptically and half intrigued. “We could have tried,” she muttered, “I could probably get a salve from Sanga.” Alistair’s eyes practically crossed at the thought. He felt himself hardening against her, and knew she did as well. “However, that doesn’t excuse you, your blasted majesty. You should have told me what was bothering you instead of trying to deal with it alone.” She stepped away from him.

“Well said, bellissima,” Starr and Alistair turned to face Zevran, they had forgotten about him. “You are quite correct my comely cousin, there are salves which you could get from Sanga.” He enjoyed watching her blush all the way down to her wonderfully magnificent breasts. “Or you could invite another into your bed to share the burden of Alistair’s increased . . . appetite. I volunteer my services,” he bowed to the two of them, noticing Alistair’s arousal with interest. “Perhaps, my goddess, and I will surely hate myself for saying this, you should put your robe back on and we should adjourn to a more comfortable location. Let us leave anger behind, shall we?”

Alistair retrieved Starr’s robe and slid it on her. He made sure it was fastened securely, though he could do nothing about the sheerness. He could only be glad that there were fewer torches lighting the halls at night and hope that the guards were more or less discreet. He turned to his longtime friend, “Zev, could you give us a few minutes before joining us? You’ve been a brother to me and I prefer to tell you both at one time, but I need to apologize to my wife some more for being an idiot. Even if I have to throw her over my shoulders to make her listen.”

Starr narrowed her eyes at him. When he started to move towards her with intense determination, her eyes widened and she quickly ran through the door, Alistair close on her heels.

Zevran chuckled, this time he would put his money on Alistair. He set the room to rights before wandering out into the hall. He kept an air of nonchalance tinged with slight amusement on his face as he wandered back to his room, hiding his concern from the guards he himself had chosen for their powers of observation and discretion. For several minutes he sat in the dark, wondering what was troubling his friend and how it would affect Starr. Judging enough time had gone by he once again left his room in the family quarters, an honor no longer questioned by anyone, and entered the private sitting room of the king and queen of Ferelden. “Did the king manage to carry off his queen?” he asked as he sat down next to Starr and looked at Alistair staring into the fire.

Disgruntled at the reminder, Starr answered him, “Stair caught up to me before we reached the family quarters. The brute.” The jesting was superficial, Starr was worried down to her bones but the levity helped her keep control. She’d never seriously entertained the thought of Alistair being unfaithful, but those fears at least provided something concrete to fight against.

Alistair turned around then and grinned, "Ha, you loved it.” Then he abandoned the attempt at jocularity and sat down facing the love of his life and the man he called brother. Taking her hands, he started to explain, “Starr, I know we’ve discussed many things about my being a Warden, more than I should have to be honest. But there is nobody in Thedas I trust more than you or Zevran. I don’t know what you both know, so please bear with me if you are already familiar with anything I’m about to tell you.” He hesitated, but when he began the words rolled out, “Wardens sacrifice a lot to become what they are . . . shorter life span . . . about 30 years after Joining . . . the Calling . . . increased nightmares . . . fighting against madness . . . hearing the darkspawn and the call of the old gods . . . last battle . . . Orzammar.” The torment on his face was mirrored on the faces in front of him. “I know it’s about eight years early, but my symptoms match everything I’ve ever heard about the Calling. Duncan told me at Ostagar that his time was near, and . . .”

For several long moments, he examined and stroked Starr’s hands. Hands that had supported him through childhood pranks and hurts; hands that joined with his in love and marriage; hands that cradled his children; hands that fought at his side on the battlefield and in the throne room. He looked up at her face then, “I’m so sorry my love; I told myself I was trying to spare you but that’s a lie. I was being selfish. I’ve been so afraid to say anything because then I’d have to admit it might be true. Elissa should be in Denerim soon on one of her quarterly visits and I hoped I would find out from her that something else is going on.” He wiped the tears from her face and his own, “Much as I hate the very idea of leaving you, know this: you have given me more joy and happiness than most men dream of. If the price of that happiness is the loss of eight years, then I pay it gladly.” He looked over at Zevran then and grasped his hand, “Zev, you’ve been my friend and brother for many years, I want you to know that I love you, too.”


	75. A Kingly Death

Unfortunately, when Elissa arrived in Denerim with her long time lover, Nathaniel Howe, she could only confirm Alistair’s fears. There was no new darkspawn activity. Silence, thick and heavy, filled the small study. Alistair stood at the balcony overlooking Denerim, Starr beside him. Zevran sat in the dark and watched them through hooded eyes as he pondered the future. Elissa was kneeling by the fire studying the flames as if they could provide a different answer. “I can’t be seen to leave for my calling and I can’t let people see me deteriorate. I don’t think it’s going to be much longer before I’m unable to control myself, probably weeks rather than months.” The bitter reality clogged his throat but he would no longer deny the truth. “At least Marcail has already proven himself a capable ruler when I’m not here. Those ‘vacations’ we took turned out to be a good thing for all of us.”

“Then you must die, my dear templar,” Zevran spoke from the shadows. It pained him to see Starr stiffening in protest but she didn’t say a word. “Perhaps a coronary? People will begin to remember how hurt you were by the Archdemon. It should not be too much of a stretch for a healer to say your heart was affected. Didn’t I see Anders with you earlier, Warden? I know he usually comes to Denerim on these quarterly visits.”

Starr still didn’t say a word. Elissa looked at the Antivan, “That means he would not be able to take a Warden’s last walk. Although I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

Alistair finally turned around, his arms embracing Starr, “I already figured that, Zevran.” He nuzzled Starr’s hair before replying to Elissa, “I’ve already been blessed more than any one man deserves. I could forgo one last battle against darkspawn. They stink,” he half-smiled.

Starr finally spoke, “But how do you _want_ to go, Stair?” Alistair thought about it then smiled wickedly. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard before whispering in her ear.

Even in the dim light Zevran could see her blush and guess what Alistair said. He chuckled to himself, _“Not a bad way to go, not a bad way at all.”_ He coughed to get Alistair’s attention, “That could be arranged, oh stalwart templar.” Alistair’s answering grin caused Starr to blush even harder. The mood in the room eased, and the four of them discussed what could be done. Some of the ideas were farfetched but gradually a workable plan emerged. Elissa would have to talk to Anders and make sure he would take part; they didn’t dare include any others. Elissa wouldn’t even tell Nat until they were on the road back to Vigil’s Keep.

The next day Alistair and Starr announced that they would be leaving Denerim to examine the Ferelden Messenger Service for a possible expansion of the communications system and then going to Orzammar, setting the stage for Alistair’s more permanent departure. The FMS had been hugely successful. Not only was every citizen in Ferelden now able to send letters anywhere in Ferelden for free, any disruption in the schedule of arrivals allowed the FMS Minister to send agents to investigate. Those investigators combined with the soldiers routinely patrolling the routes had prevented small problems from becoming big ones and even uncovered threats to Ferelden. The first main hub was in Lothering, with small hubs in Ostagar, Highever, Denerim, Amaranthine and Gwaren. Marcail and his wife, Teyrn Wulff’s youngest daughter, would be acting as regents in their absence, as they had many times before. Alistair was so proud of the man Marcail had become. Indeed, he was proud of all his children. He looked at Starr beside him; she was as beautiful as ever. They were strolling through the Marketplace before their scheduled departure. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingers. Onlookers were charmed by the obvious affection they had for each other after all these years.

A commotion in a nearby alley had him pushing her behind him, protective as always. When a bunch of dogs came out with a string of sausages followed by a lot of yelling Starr laughed and Alistair with her. Starr stopped laughing when he started gasping and holding his chest. “Stair? Stair!” Starr yelled. Somebody cried out that there was a healer with the Wardens and ran off to find him. Meanwhile Starr was supporting Alistair and easing him down to the ground. She managed to tell one of the guards to get word to the Palace. Activity in the Marketplace came to a halt as people tried to figure out what was happening. Anders came running and knelt down by the fallen king. Somebody had run to the Chantry to get the Revered Mother. Muffled sobs spread through the silence when Anders looked at Starr and shook his head. Alistair was very pale and his breathing was labored and shallow. More guards came from the Palace with a pallet. Very carefully, they eased Alistair onto it and quickly began to carry him back to the palace with Starr trotting beside them and holding onto Alistair’s hand. Anders followed them to the Palace with the rest of the guards. Sobs and silence followed them.

Marcail was already waiting for them in the family quarters with his wife and Zevran. Messengers had quickly been sent to the triplets and they should be back at the Palace within a few hours. Marcail froze when he saw how pale and weak Alistair was then he quickly moved forward to help get his father comfortable. When the healer came, he made everybody leave the room except Starr and Anders while he examined his patient. Starr told him what happened and then Anders told him what he had observed. The healer was old enough to remember how Alistair lay near death after the Archdemon’s attack and suggested that could have weakened his heart a great deal. Anders agreed. The healer approached Starr where she sat next to Alistair, still holding his hand, “Your Majesty, I am so sorry but there is nothing more we can do. He might recover on his own, His Majesty has always been a strong man, but I’m afraid we must prepare ourselves for the likelihood of that not happening. I’ll prepare some potions to make him comfortable. I am truly sorry; he is a great man and a good one.” He patted her hand and looked like he might say more but instead smiled sorrowfully and backed out of the room.

Alistair could hear and wished he could hold her in his arms but that wasn’t possible. He heard her talking to Anders, “Thank you Anders, would you stay a little while longer in case the children have questions?” Starr sat by Alistair’s side a few moments longer and let the tears flow. Finally, she wiped them away and bent over to kiss him gently on the lips, “I love you, Stair. I’m going to go talk to our children now, emma vhenan.” With slow steps, she left their room in order to be with Marcail and Christine while they waited for Duncan, Eleanor and Aaron. Christine had quietly arranged for coffee, tea, soup and sandwiches to be sent up. She admired her mother-and-father-in-law so much and was willing to do anything to make Starr’s burden easier, as well as Marcail’s. Starr noticed how Christine had taken charge and smiled at the young woman, “Thank you, Christine. This was very thoughtful; I think I will have a cup of that tea. Hopefully the others will be here soon.”

When Starr was out of the room, Anders quickly came over and gave Alistair another potion. He’d look like he was still suffering but he’d be able to have a last word with his family before he ‘died.’

After taking a few sips of tea with her head down to collect her thoughts she finally looked at Marcail. Hoping she’d given Anders enough time she spoke, “Why don’t you and Christine go in and see your father? Anders thinks he should be fine with one or two of us at a time. When your brothers and sister are here, he’ll answer our questions. Go on.” Marcail bent down, kissed his mother on the cheek, and patted her shoulder before extending a hand to his wife and going in to the bedroom.

Starr and Zevran were alone. Starr looked up to see Zevran watching her, his expression pensive and his amber eyes unreadable. She stared at him solemnly and didn’t say a word. For once Zevran couldn’t read her expression, her eyes were so full of pain that any other thoughts were lost to him somewhere in those brown depths. “I’m sorry, bellissima; I wish I could spare you this pain.” Whatever words Starr might have spoken went unsaid as the triplets arrived along with Arl Eamon and Bann Soris. Zevran slipped inside the bedroom to stay with Alistair while Anders addressed all of them in the next room and answered any questions.

As soon as they were alone and Zevran by his side, Alistair motioned for the Antivan to lean closer. It was hard on the elf to see the difficulty his friend had, even though it was all part of the deception. The two men had agreed that it was best Starr not know exactly when Alistair would have his ‘heart attack’ and Alistair wanted to make sure that nobody could be blamed for an attack. Alistair would linger until somebody of comparable size died in one of the knife fights still common in the rougher areas of the docks. Zevran said it should be no more than a day or two. “Do you,” Alistair gasped, “remember the promise . . . the promise you made me in Orz . . . Orzammar?” Zevran thought back to that first wedding and nodded his head. “Prom . . . promise me again . . . and . . . that you’ll stay . . . stay with her at least . . . at least a year. I . . . I want her to . . . to be happy again. . . . This is going to . . . be harder on her than . . . she realizes. . . . I hate causing . . . her pain . . . she . . . loves you, trusts you.” Exhausted Alistair could say no more.

Amber eyes met hazel ones and Zevran promised, “You have been friend and brother to me for many years, Alistair. Even if I did not adore bellissima, I would promise you this. You are a good man, and I will only say this once, I love you too, my friend. I will do everything in my power to help your bride through this difficult time ahead.” Zevran smiled even though his eyes were bright with unshed tears, “I am glad I did not steal her away from you years ago. You have been a much better husband than I would have been.” Alistair smiled crookedly in amusement. They both knew that would never have happened. When Starr re-entered the room Arl Eamon was with her. Zevran slipped out; ostensibly, he would be trying to discover if there was a plot against Alistair. It was an excellent cover for his real purpose of corpse hunting.

Eamon was an old man and he never thought he would outlive Alistair. Isolde almost never left the estate these days. Her health had suffered with the birth of their daughter and the later disappointment that she was also a mage weakened her further. Alistair’s efforts to change the Circle and the mage/templar relationships had done much to keep Ferelden from suffering the worst of the conflicts raging elsewhere. The Circle was now more of a university to train young mages and provide a safe haven for older mages or those who wished to pursue more in depth studies. One of the first things he and Starr had done was to banish the use of identity concealing helmets. Knowing that it would be easier to hold templars accountable had done much to show the mages that the new king and queen were serious in their efforts to change things. The second had been to get the templars to agree to regular visitation for the mages. For safety reasons they couldn’t allow family members to stay on the island but a family member could stay at the Spoiled Princess and visit the young mage a few days every week for the first month and afterwards they could visit once a week on the newly established visiting day. There had been other changes over the past twenty years but those two did much to temper the attitudes towards mages and templars. The result was that Ferelden had fewer cases of blood mages, rogue apostates or even zealous templars causing trouble than any other nation in Thedas.

“Don’t try to speak, my boy. I know I may not deserve your friendship after the way I treated you growing up; sometimes an old man can see his mistakes and faults for what they were. In spite of my actions, you grew into a man to be proud of and have been a good king for Ferelden. I’m sorry for my failures to you. And I’m grateful for your actions on behalf of the mages; Connor and his sister Sarah have had a much better life in the Circle because of you and your Starr than they would have if you had listened to my advice. Maker watch over you, Your Majesty, and may you regain your health.” Eamon patted Starr’s hand, the one that was holding onto Alistair, and shuffled out of the room.

Starr accompanied Eamon to the door and Soris took the opportunity to pay his respects. He’d been with Eamon when they heard the news. Over the years, they had become friendly even though Eamon had not been convinced of the wisdom of making the Alienage its own Bannorn. When Wulff left for Gwaren, however, he took over the role of advising the young elf and teaching him the ways of being a Bann. Soris was grateful to Alistair for what he’d done for the elves but Starr was his friend and she was the reason he was here now. “Your Majesty, Starr, if there is anything at all I or we can do for you we will. I’m sorry Starr, Maker watch over you both.” Anders joined him and they walked out of the Palace with Eamon. Unknowingly Eamon and Soris would add weight to the rumors that Alistair’s illness was the result of the Archdemon’s viciousness so many years ago. They both vividly remembered the days after the darkspawn attack on Denerim.

Over the next few days, only Starr and the family were with Alistair. They had to take turns but he was never left alone. Marcail and Christine took the reins of government, allowing Starr to remain at her husband’s side. Whenever duties didn’t call them away, they could be found in the family quarters. Much that could be rescheduled had been. Duncan, Eleanor and Aaron took turns sitting with their mother and/or father. Alistair was able to tell them how much he loved them and how proud he was of them, his warrior, his scholar and his diplomat. Eleanor wanted to cry and curl up against him just like when she was a little girl afraid of monsters in the dark. Duncan and Aaron wanted to hit something, but this was no enemy they could fight. The only thing Alistair asked them was to help Marcail and watch over their sister, to which they nodded solemnly.

Marcail was with Alistair and Starr was sitting on the balcony with Christine, looking over the gardens. In her quiet way Christine had taken up the duties that were Starr’s and made sure that her husband’s family was as comfortable as possible. She and Eleanor had gotten along immediately and she frequently provided a shoulder for the younger woman to cry on. Neither of them wanted to add to Starr’s burden. Christine made sure soup, tea and many of Starr’s favorite foods were readily available. She was worried about the weight her mother-in-law had lost. She even went so far as to talk to the royal healer who reassured her that in time Starr would eat more, but she had to deal with her sorrow in her own way. The silence between them was companionable even though Christine was worried. Starr spoke first, “Thank you, Christine; I know how much you’ve done to look after us. You’ll be a good queen just as Marcail will be a good king. Alistair is very fond of you and I know he will regret not being here for his first grandchild.”

“Don’t talk like that, His Majesty, Father, is strong and still young. Surely he’ll recover with more rest,” Christine was distraught. She knew Marcail would be king one day, but not like this, not when his father was still so young. She loved her husband and his family and wanted to see Alistair dangle a grandchild on his knee. Her own father was dead, her older sister was the Teyrna of Gwaren and so most of their contact was through letters. The FMS made it so much easier to keep in touch. Many had been surprised when Wulff and Anora married, but it worked out well for them and Wulff’s daughters. Certainly, it eased their introduction to Gwaren and its people. What was even more surprising was that Anora actually seemed to be happy. She fully supported Alistair and dedicated much of her time to promoting new businesses in Gwaren.

“I’ve known Stair since I was three years old, he’s been my hero ever since,” Starr confided. “I wish we had more time, but I know in my heart that isn’t the case. I can’t say I’ve made peace with that, but I’ve accepted it.” She turned to look at the young woman who loved her son, “Stair thinks of you as his second daughter, you know. He respected your father and we were both quite happy when Marcail told us he wanted to court you. You have a good heart and Marcail loves you. We couldn’t ask for anything more.” The two women leaned on each other and watched the flowers in the garden below.

Marcail started when Alistair spoke, “Your father would be so proud of you, maybe even as proud as I am. I know we’ve never talked much about Cailan since we first told you. He was thrilled when your mother told him about you at Ostagar. I’m sorry you never got to know him or Maric. One of the happiest days in my life was when you first called me ‘Dad.’ You’ll know what I mean when you hear it from your own child. Christine is a good woman; value her like I value your mother. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her.” He had learned to pace himself and talk slowly so he wasn’t gasping out the words. “Well, I don’t mean the dying part.” Marcail smiled painfully as he listened. “You have grown into a good man, Marcail, and I know Ferelden will benefit. Never forget to leave time just for yourself and your family; you’ll be a better man and a better king if you do, and a happier one. That’s really the only advice I can give you remember to be happy. You have people who love you, don’t forget that.”

“Oh Dad, I love you. I can only hope to be half as good a king or father as you. I’ll look after Mom . . .” he stopped at the look on Alistair’s face. “I should have guessed, you already told Cousin Zev to take care of her. I never told you before but I’m glad you came back into Mom’s life. She’s a much happier woman than she would have been without you. I don’t think I realized that until Christine.” He gripped Alistair’s hand and let the tears fall as they would, “I am so proud to be your son. Cailan might be my father but you’re my dad and I can’t think of anybody luckier than I and the Trips that _you_ are our father.” He bent down and hugged his father for the last time.

That night an exhausted Zevran returned. Aaron was in the sitting room; Starr was with Alistair and the rest of the family was in their rooms trying to sleep. Aaron looked up at his cousin and godfather. “Well?” he asked quietly.

Zevran shook his head, “We had to investigate but there was no plot against your father. My young cousin, it appears that my friend’s current illness is simply a delayed result of that blasted dragon. I suppose your mother is still up with your father?” Aaron confirmed that Starr was indeed with Alistair. “They will be relieved that there are no threats against your family.” Zevran waited until the young man resettled himself before he entered the royal bedroom. Quietly he moved to the bed and stroked Starr’s hair as she lay sleeping and holding onto Alistair. He gently woke up Alistair, “it is time, my friend. This drug will take effect in about an hour and you will appear as one dead for one to two days, certainly long enough for us to make the switch.”

Alistair nodded his head and looked at Starr. This was so much harder on her than any of them realized it would be, yet she never complained. If he had to do it over, he would have simply taken a stronger dose and died of the heart attack. At least he’d been able to say a final farewell to his children. He kissed her lovingly and whispered to her as she slept, “Emma sa’lath, emma vhenan’ara, emma falon.” He then took the drug Zevran handed to him. Zevran took the vial as it fell out of Alistair’s hand and ground it into powder. He dropped the powdered glass into the fire and returned to the sitting room where he and Aaron kept vigil. Later Duncan and Eleanor joined them.

Starr woke early in the morning. Something was different; it took her sleep-deprived mind a minute to understand. “No!” she cried. She started shaking him and calling out to him but Alistair didn’t respond. Duncan reached her first, and grabbed her and held her tight as she cried against him. Eleanor ran to get Marcail and Zevran left for the healer. Aaron approached his father and took his hand. Tears dripped down his cheeks when he realized his father was indeed gone. Marcail and Christine were quick to come back with Eleanor. Marcail stood by Aaron’s side, looking down at his father as Eleanor sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. He looked to his wife whose sorrow reflected his own. Tearfully she turned and called for the seneschal and had him send for the Revered Mother and Arl Eamon. By the time they arrived, the healer confirmed that Alistair was indeed dead.

A pall spread over Denerim with the news of the king’s death. From the Marketplace to the Docks to the Alienage, men and women cried. Businesses closed and even the taverns were subdued. Everywhere people looked and didn’t see their king, they were reminded of their loss. Bann Soris declared it an official day of mourning in the Alienage. People filled the streets just to be with others who grieved. They told of meeting him or repeated the stories they had heard. One of the most popular stories was the ballad Leliana had composed about the love between Alistair and his Starr. 


	76. The Vigil

Alistair was touched and humbled by the outpouring of grief on his behalf. He had to stay in the Grey Warden compound lest somebody recognize him but he could watch the crowds from the windows. He didn’t really know how Elissa and Anders managed to get the substitute body into the Chantry without anyone being suspicious. He remembered waking up on the bier and looking up at the Chantry ceiling through the visor of his helmet. Later Anders told him that because of the crowds they had toured the city with him on display, as it were, so that people could see him before they entered the Chantry. The procession took nearly an entire day. When night fell Starr prevailed upon her children to go back to the Palace before her, she wanted just a little time alone before heading back.

Once it was only Starr, Zevran and the Wardens in the Chantry Anders and Elissa got busy stripping the Grey Warden armor from the dead guy and Zevran and Starr opened Alistair’s visor. Zevran passed some vile smelling restorative under his nose and he was able to move. The very first thing he did was kiss Starr. Elissa and Anders stopped wrestling with the dead guy and looked at him. Elissa rolled her eyes and whispered, “Really Alistair, I hardly think this is the time. You’ll just have to wait.” Alistair just grinned and went back to stripping off his armor and clothes. He didn’t even mind Zevran’s comments about his form; he was so relieved to be moving again. The only difficulty came when Elissa pointed to his ring. Never once had he taken off his wedding ring and it hurt to do so now. “I’m sorry, Alistair,” Elissa said sympathetically, “we can’t afford for it not to be here in case somebody comes looking or for somebody to find it in the Deep Roads and begin to ask questions.”

Now he was stuck in a small house, wearing ill-fitting armor and watching his own funeral through a window. The armor chafed, he’d gotten spoiled by good quality custom fit over the years. His disguise was that of an injured Grey Warden. His double lay in state inside the Chantry, many of the Banns would not be able to reach Denerim in time for his funeral but most of them should arrive for his son’s coronation. Nat and Elissa were staying at Fergus’ estate, so it was only Anders and Alistair for at least the next ten days. They couldn’t leave until after Marcail was crowned. Occasionally Elissa or Zevran would stop by for a change of pace, but it was a slow ten days. Zevran assured Alistair that Starr was doing as well as could be expected, and that Marcail was quietly taking charge with no opposition.

Mages, dwarves and elves from both the Alienage and Ostagar attended Marcail’s coronation as well as members of the Bannorn. The Grand Cleric presided but Starr was the one who actually placed the crowns upon Marcail and Christine. She smiled and kissed them, addressing them as Your Majesty before stepping back to the sidelines. The festivities were shorter and more subdued than they would have been otherwise but they did lift the atmosphere in Denerim. Marcail made no changes, and the only announcement he made after his coronation was that Alistair’s name would be added to the Grey Warden monument in Denerim.

Three days later the younger Theirins watched Starr getting ready to leave for Vigil’s Keep in the company of Zevran and a few Wardens. Guards would make sure the country estate was secure and then wait for her in Amaranthine. Starr had already moved into what she referred to as the Dowager suite and said she wanted to give Marcail and Christine time to develop their own rhythm as king and queen without her around as a distraction. “Are you sure you won’t stay, Mom?” Marcail asked, watching her and brooding. “I’m worried about you. Dad’s been a part of your life for so very long, I wish you’d let at least one of us go with you.”

For the first time, Starr really noticed that all of her sons were taller than she was. Eleanor was nearly as tall but had a more slender build. And every single one of them looked like their father. There were differences, of course. Duncan was even bigger and had the same warrior’s build. His brown hair was frequently shaggy and his face was a rougher version of Alistair’s. Aaron, on the other hand, looked more like Maric with his thinner features and smiling mouth. Of course, considering how strong the Theirin line was saying one resembled Maric and the other Alistair wasn’t saying much. Odd how Marcail was the one who most closely resembled Alistair. If his eyes were hazel instead of blue, they could almost have been twins. Their daughter had her father’s warm hazel eyes and ready smile. Alistair was reflected in the shape of her brow and Cailan in the line of her jaw. She wasn’t beautiful. Instead, she was an interesting and warm looking young woman who would be an interesting and warm looking old woman. Starr smiled, “Your father will always be a part of my life. If I want to think of him, all I have to do is look at any one of you or in my heart. Nothing can ever take that away. I am so proud of all of you, and am so fortunate to have such caring children. This is something I need to do, and it’s hardly unusual for a widow to go into seclusion for a time to think, to grieve. I’ll be back in time for Christine to give birth and you know where I’ll be. I love you all so very much.” Starr hugged each of them in turn before picking up Duncan’s shield. She was going to take it with her; it was one thing Alistair could use when he went into the Deep Roads. Moreover, it gave her a reason to go with the Wardens, returning the shield that belonged to the previous Warden-Commander to Vigil’s Keep.

A small part of Starr felt, not free exactly, but lighter. She didn’t have time to examine why that was as she was joined first by Zevran, then the Sergeant of the Guards in charge of the troops accompanying her. “Are you ready, bellissima? The Wardens are anxious to get started.” Zevran looked at the four younger Theirins. “I will take good care of your dear mother, on this I swear.” He gave an elaborate bow and then offered his arm to Starr. “Your carriage awaits, oh celestial Starr.” He helped her inside and joined her, and then they were off. Zevran studied her, there were shadows under her eyes and she looked thinner; the black she was wearing made her look unusually ethereal. “Your Dalish armor is under the seat. How are you faring, amora? This has been difficult for you.”

Starr leaned her head against the wall of the carriage and thought about it. “I don’t really know, Zev, other than being tired I don’t know. Sometimes I feel one way, then another. I understand why you and Stair didn’t tell me when things were going to happen, I really do. Doesn’t mean I was never angry or hurt, though. The past few days seem unreal and too horribly real at the same time. Yet I feel lighter.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Ignore me; I’m not even making sense.”

“No, I think I understand. I apologize, bellissima. If we had realized how hard this would be on you we never would have gone through with it,” Zevran moved to her side and tentatively embraced her. He was relieved when she leant her head against him and let him stroke her hair. He was forgiven. He allowed himself to kiss the top of her head, “Go to sleep, my gorgeous goddess. Let Zevran watch over you.” He continued holding her as she dozed off.

When the guards left the next day Alistair was able to come out of hiding. For the first time in their marriage, he and Starr had no responsibilities looming over them. No darkspawn or Archdemon. No civil war. No children, regardless of how well loved. No country to rule. No decisions to make. Even though every step took them closer to Alistair’s last walk, they felt oddly free, even happy.

When they got near Vigil’s Keep, the brief hiatus Starr and Alistair enjoyed was over. Elissa and Nathaniel went ahead to send most of the Wardens and soldiers out on patrols throughout the Arling under the guise of discovering if there were any rumors against the new king. Alistair grimaced but put on his full head helmet and the rest of them prepared to enter the Keep. Seneschal Varel was in the courtyard when the carriage pulled up. “Your Highness! We weren’t expecting you, it is an honor. Please allow me to express my condolences, His Majesty will be missed.”

“It is good to see you well, Varel. Thank you. I hope I am not inconveniencing you, I wished to spend a few days with some old friends and away from Court.” Starr smiled at the man, in some ways he reminded her of a younger and more soldierly version of Gerod. His discretion, discipline and common sense had certainly been helpful to Elissa in the early days of organizing Vigil’s Keep.

“Varel, I think the small guest quarters overlooking the Amaranthine Ocean would suit Her Highness.” Elissa turned to Starr, “They are in a separate building and will give you more privacy than anything we could offer in the main keep. Why don’t I show you some of the other changes while they are being prepared?” Deftly she steered them away from the courtyard as Varel left to organize the quarters in question. They weren’t fully furnished yet, so Varel and the servants would be occupied for some time. Nathaniel and Alistair quietly joined them as she led the way to the former dungeons and unlocked the door. “When I first came here there were cells at the bottom of these steps. We moved them and converted the area to vaults. We thought at first of sealing off the entrance to the old crypts but Nat pointed out that we didn’t know much about the Avvars who used to live here and historians might be able to glean some useful information. I think Ernesto wet himself when he found out.” She paused briefly, remembering that he’d gone on his walk a few years ago. “So while we still had the services of Voldrik we replaced the old doors with stronger ones that had better locks.  We use one of the vaults in here to store any records or relics, which might be valuable from a historical perspective. We’ll go through a series of locked rooms before we get to the Deep Roads.”

In the third room, Oghren was waiting for them. “Hah! I knew something was up,” he waved his flask before drinking. He leered at Starr, “You are looking especially dwarvalicious today, Your Dwarvalusciousness.” His expression grew somber, “If you’re here then that’s Alistair under that helmet. I thought there was something funny about that heart attack. You’re here for your Calling, aren’t you? I’ve known you for a long time and I ain’t stupid, Commander.” He hoisted up his pack and picked up his favorite battleaxe. “I’m going with you.”

The rest of them were stunned. Alistair shakily removed his helmet. Elissa was the first to speak, “But Oghren, it’s not _your_ Calling, you have a few more years.”

The dwarf, whose beard was more gray then red, shook his head. “Commander, you’ve been a good friend and a good boss but I’m old and I’m tired. Felsi’s dead and the sprout moved away. I was a lousy husband and a lousy father. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is fighting and killing things. There’s more than one type of calling. If I survive, I’ll see if I can find my way to Kal-Sharok, always had a hankering to see what it was like. I want to get back to the Stone.” He turned to Alistair with a surprising dignity, “I would be honored if you would allow me to join you in one final battle.”

Alistair was touched. His eyes suspiciously wet he answered the old dwarf, “The honor is mine my friend.” Somberly the group continued on their way until they were at the gateway to the Deep Roads.

Before Elissa opened the last door Starr retrieved Duncan’s shield from Nat. “Stair, take this with you. You’ve had to leave so much else behind.” When Alistair saw what it was, he was speechless. He remembered when Elissa first gave it to him years ago. It was in the Grey Warden vault in Denerim. He appreciated having a physical reminder of his mentor and it was his favorite shield. Now he knew why Starr refused to let him have it with him when he ‘died.’ “I wish I could give you more, emma lath. ‘Ir su araval tu elvaral u na emma abelas,[1]’ I want you to remember that you are never alone. You have given me so much joy and happiness over the years. Thank you for being my love and my friend.” She touched her lips to his and sank into his embrace one last time.

Touched beyond measure he held onto her. “You have given me everything I ever wanted and more. My spirit would have turned into some cold thing without you. You have my heart gladly. Don’t grieve for me, Starr, at least not for too long,” he added when she stirred restlessly against him. “You have so much life ahead of you and I want you to be happy. I adore you so much.” He kissed her, hard, and looked at Zevran. Complicated thoughts and emotions ran between them but all he said was “Take care of her Zev. She’s the most precious thing in the world.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from her and towards the door.

Starr sniffed and looked down at Oghren. She was going to miss him, even when he was pinching her bottom to see if she was still dwarva material. She knelt down in front of him so she could look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered and hugged him. Awkwardly he hugged her back. She whispered something in his ear, which caused his eyes to cross, and then he laughed. Before he let her go, he moved his hands and gave her ass a healthy squeeze. She kissed his cheeks, “Good-bye, Oghren. I will miss you.” She stood up and stepped away so he could join Alistair. Before Elissa closed the door, Starr and Alistair locked eyes. They recited the words from their wedding, ‘Emma lath. Emma vhenan. Emma falon.’ Then he and Oghren were gone, the door locked behind them. Starr stepped forward, put her hand on the door, and bent her head down. She stayed like that until she could no longer sense the echoes on the other side.

Quietly they returned to the courtyard. Starr flinched with every closed door until she could hardly control the tremors shaking her body. The others were also deeply affected, they’d said farewell to two friends and comrades. For the three Wardens it was a sober reminder of what they would be facing in not too many years. Varel was waiting for them in the sunlight. “What happened?” he asked, looking from one to the other. It was Nat who explained that Oghren had decided to go on his last walk. Varel shook his head sadly. He hadn’t been fond of the dwarf but knew the Commander would miss him. “I’m sorry. The quarters for Her Majesty are ready. I’ll send some food and make sure nobody interrupts you for the rest of the day.” Instinctively, he knew that they would want to be alone together in their grief.

They sat in the sun drinking wine and ale. Watching the ocean Starr thought how much Alistair would have enjoyed a little house like this where he could be at peace. He would have enjoyed trying to fish the salt waters. Anders came to her with some bread, cheese and salted meat. He made sure she ate something before breaking the silence, “I have to know. What did you say to Oghren to make him laugh like that?”

At first, she said nothing, and then she started to giggle. She looked at Zevran and Elissa, “Do you remember what he used to ask Alistair about legs? He thought I didn’t hear,” After a moment, they smiled. Elissa snorted while Nat and Anders looked confused until Zevran explained. “I told him he’d been asking the question the wrong way round for all these years. He should have asked what _I_ did with them.”

“Bellissima, you are a wicked, wicked woman. I can just imagine Alistair’s face when Oghren decides to ask him,” Zevran chuckled.

“I’m trying to imagine his face when Oghren tells him it was Starr who put him up to it,” Elissa retorted. “Between Oghren and Zevran I swear there were days Alistair was so red his face was a walking fireball.” Soon they were all laughing as they told stories about their old friends. The Wardens didn’t leave for their own quarters until long after night fell.

The next few days developed a pattern as Starr and Zevran stayed. She seemed to be waiting for something. She cried herself to sleep at night, when she slept at all, and during the day, she would either keep company with one of the Wardens or train. Anders enjoyed her company and frequently came by with Ser Pounce-a-lot to talk or argue. When she practiced her archery, many of the younger Wardens gathered to watch and learn. They thought Nathaniel the best archer they’d ever seen but he couldn’t do some of the things she did. They were truly impressed when she let loose three arrows at one time and hit three different targets dead center.

Alistair and Oghren had been gone four days and she was feeling especially restless and unsettled. Anders and Zevran were arguing about which was better, Antivan brandy or Rivaini wine. Starr was nearby watching the waves breaking against the shore when she started gasping. Immediately Zevran was by her said and caught her before she fell. She mumbled something about darkspawn nearby, ogres and emissaries. She gave a strangled cry and her eyes rolled back showing only the whites before she became utterly senseless. Quickly they carried her inside.

From what Anders could determine Starr suffered no injuries, she was alive but not there. Nor could he detect any magic that might be working against her. The closest thing he could think of was when a mage was in the Fade, but Starr was no mage. “I don’t understand. There aren’t any darkspawn within sensing distance. She’s not ill, nothing is broken or damaged and I detect no signs of poison or magic being used.”

After a few moments of deep thought Zevran hesitatingly replied, “The bond between bellissima and her templar is an unusual one. Even before Morrigan came to Highever Starr knew the Archdemon was dead and Alistair hurt. I think, fear, that he is dead and she experienced it. I am not sure what that means for her.”

Anders paled, “That sounds like a legend told by a bard, but if you’re right . . . I think she’s in the Fade. The way she is lying here, what I sense is the same as when a mage has entered the Fade. I don’t understand it. Without magic or a demon’s influence, it shouldn’t be possible. And there’s nothing we can do except watch over her and make sure nothing happens to her body or she’ll be lost to us. Let’s hope bringing her inside didn’t do any harm.”

“Why can’t somebody go into the Fade and retrieve her? That was done in Redcliffe years ago with the boy Connor,” Zevran demanded.

“The situations are different. There’s no demon involved, which is good for Starr but it also means we don’t have a trail to follow. We have to be prepared for one to try to take advantage, but I doubt she’s a good target since she has no magic. It would be a very powerful and very determined demon who stood a chance. I don’t even know how to track non-magical beings in the Fade. We don’t have enough mages or lyrium to perform the ritual in any case.” Anders shook his head, he didn’t like what he was about to say, “Zevran, if she and Alistair were so closely connected that she managed to follow him into the Fade . . . she’s going to have to want to come back.”

Zevran went numb. The thought of losing her . . . _“No! I will not allow it.”_ He looked at the mage, “is there nothing we can do?”

 

[1] ‘Ir su araval tu elvaral u na emma abelas’ = but long journeys are made longer when alone within.


	77. The Fade

Slowly she opened her eyes and saw nothing but grey fog above her, next to her, even below her. _“Where am I?”_ she groaned as she remembered crushing pain but now she felt nothing. Carefully she got to her feet; it was very disorienting not to see or feel ground and sky. _“I must be dreaming, though it’s a very strange dream. I remember Stair left for his Calling, the little house looking over the sea, and then . . .”_ visions of Alistair and Oghren fighting a horde of darkspawn, Alistair paralyzed before being grabbed up like a rag doll by some vicious ogre. Pain swept through her as his life was crushed out and she fell to her knees, sobbing.

Strong arms wrapped around her and held her close. “Shh, I’m so sorry my love,” Alistair soothed her. He kept stroking her hair and rocking her in his arms until she quieted. When she was calm again, he kissed her so tenderly she barely felt it. “I can’t say I’m not happy to see you, emma vhenan, but you shouldn’t be here. We need to get you back.”

“Stair,” she breathed. “I thought you were dead. Am I dreaming? Where are we?”

A profound sadness came over him, “It’s more complicated than that. We’re in the Fade and **I** _am_ dead, but you’re not and you’re not dreaming. Not exactly. Somehow, when I d-died your spirit came with me. Your body is still breathing but if we don’t find a way to get you back . . .” he shook his head. Starr shrugged; at the moment, staying in the Fade with Alistair didn’t seem so bad. “Don’t you dare!” Alistair yelled. He started shaking her, “You have twenty, thirty, forty more years left to live, and you will not die now. Do you hear me?” His eyes were blazing with anger. “If we had died together or even if you really died I would welcome being here with you, but not like this. Not. Like. This.” He had to loosen his grip on her shoulders and force himself to calm down. Starr was looking at him, eyes wide. She’d rarely seen him so angry, and certainly never with her. He hugged her to him, “I want you to live, Starr. I want you to hold our grandchild in your arms. I want you to visit the places we talked about and didn’t get a chance to see, or at least not as we saw them on official visits. One day I even want you to find somebody who can make you happy. I love you so much; it would destroy me if you gave away your future.”

Starr closed her eyes and just breathed him in. He was right of course, she couldn’t stay. Even though a part of her was tempted, she wanted to be there for Christine. She wanted to be there as the Trips found their place in the world. She couldn’t imagine finding somebody else but she could imagine herself traveling, preferably without all the queen stuff. “You’re right, I know that. Surely, we can take a little time. I miss you,” she began peppering his face with small kisses and removing his clothes. “You’ve been in the Fade before, how does it work?”

He gasped when her lips closed over his nipple and her fingers were sliding inside his britches, “it’s not real, the Sloth demon used our own memories, thoughts and desires to create environments. Mages can use their will to shape the Fade.” He quickly removed her clothes so she was naked in front of him. She was a beacon in a sea of grey. “You are so beautiful; right now I want a bed to lay you on so I can adore every inch of you.” Quickly he removed his own clothes and was back at her side, his erection brushing between her legs. “Do you remember our wedding night in Orzammar?” he nibbled her ear.

“Y-yes,” she breathed in his ear. She shivered as he ran his fingers down her spine and between her cheeks. She licked the skin on the side of his neck and nibbled her way to his shoulder. “Why?”

“Try to imagine it, the room; maybe we can recreate it if we concentrate.” He closed his eyes and kneaded her rear as he tried to remember details. “We’re at the doorway looking in, there’s a table to the right.”

She wriggled against him and lightly scratched his back. “The bed is behind a screen. It’s big enough for five or six and it’s just for us.” Her eyes opened in shock when she felt him pushing her down onto the mattress, “Stair, we did it!” she said excitedly.

“No, but we’re about to,” and he swallowed her snickers when his mouth took possession of hers. He filled his hands with her breasts while she caressed the muscles of his back and wrapped herself around him. With one thrust, he was all the way inside her, filling her, tantalizing her when he refused to move. He licked her skin as she moved against him. He braced himself and brought one hand between them, searching for and finding her nub. Only when she started bucking did he move his hand and begin moving in and out, every stroke, every thrust bringing them closer and closer to release. She cried out and he started moving faster until finally he spilled inside her. They rolled over, still connected, and rode out the aftershocks with him holding her and stroking her hair.

Pleasantly tired Starr relaxed against him. Idly she asked about the darkspawn, “Do you hear them anymore?” He shook his head, too relaxed to talk. “Good,” she mumbled. As their minds started to drift, the shape of the room began to fall apart. Starr lifted her head, listening.

“What is it, my love?” he questioned.

“I don’t know, I thought I heard somebody moving and talking.” She frowned, shaking her head. “It sounded like, like Zevran but muffled, as if through a very thick wall or from very far away.”

In Starr’s bedroom, Zevran was keeping vigil. “Don’t leave me, bellissima. We need you, I need you.” He continued holding her in his embrace. He nuzzled her hair and continued to talk to her.

Alistair was worried. Time was funny in the Fade and he didn’t want Starr to be unable to leave. He remembered Niall’s body at the foot of the Sloth Demon. She was still having trouble visualizing the house at Vigil’s Keep. He’d hoped that recreating their wedding bed would make it easier for her. Alistair thought if she could just see the house she would be able to find her way to the other side, that there would be enough of a connection to pull her back. He had no doubts at all that Zevran was watching over her and doing what he could to bring back his beloved Starr. _“Do something, Zevran. I know you didn’t leave her. Give her a reason to return.”_ He smiled at his beautiful wife. He went to her and gently framed her face with his hands. “It’s time for you to go, emma lath, and live the rest of your life for us both.” His eyes were full of sorrow and love as he kissed her good-bye.

“I know, Stair. I’m glad we had this time together. I feel better knowing your spirit made it here safely; I wasn’t sure if the taint would somehow prohibit that,” she rested her head on his shoulders and tried to soak him in as much as possible.

He bowed his head. Maker, it would be difficult to let her go. “I love you, Starrelena Feyorlin Theirin. I promise you, when it is your time I will be waiting,” he kissed her before she could say anything. “Let us go to Vigil’s Keep together, emma sa’lath, to the main gate and facing the courtyard.” Together they were able to mesh their memories so that they were standing in the dust and looking at the statue of Andraste. “Where do we go from here, my love?”

Starr concentrated and led the way. Her steps faltered when she drew near where she’d been standing when she fell, “I was here and Zevran and Anders were arguing over there when I felt, I saw, I sensed-” She began shaking and held onto Alistair. He tried to soothe her. “It was awful, Stair. I didn’t just know you died I felt it; I felt your life leaving your body. It was the worst moment of my life.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. You are the most precious thing in my life, and death come to think of it.” He grunted when she half-heartedly hit him for that. He continued stroking her back. “You said Zevran and Anders were here? Then I’m sure Zevran wasted no time getting you into bed, he’s wanted to do that for over twenty years.” He only laughed when she hit him this time. “Of course he’d have to get in line with half the dwarves of Orzammar and sundry others. It’s your fault for being so incredibly gorgeous and desirable. Show me the bedroom, my loving temptress.”

Starr smirked disbelievingly and shook her head at his silliness. “I could say the same of you, you know. I’ve seen the looks some of those women give you at Court and elsewhere. Now they have to divide their attentions between Marcail, Duncan and Aaron. And don’t think I don’t know the Nevarran ambassador’s wife pinched your bottom when she thought nobody was looking. I had to take her on a very long tour of Denerim, ending with an archery demonstration.”

“For which I thank you,” he said fervently. “I rather liked him, you know, but she was horrible. Even Zev hid from her. Lead the way, emma lath.” He gave her rear a quick squeeze when she moved in front of him to open the door. She laughed then turned into him and hugged him before they entered the little house together.

As they moved towards the bedroom, Alistair saw, just for a moment, Zevran sitting on the bed, holding Starr. He’d never seen the elf looking so bleak. He understood when he saw his Starr looking so lifeless in his arms. He only hoped they were in time. The vision into the real world faded. Alistair looked at Starr and realized she hadn’t seen anything. “Just lie down, my love. Try to sleep.”

“I love you, Stair. I’m going to miss you.” She looked at him, her face full of impending sorrow.

“And I you. You have given me so many wonderful memories and I want you to be happy. I will always love you,” gently he leaned down and kissed her. For a few minutes he sat by her, stroking her hair and willing her to sleep, to live. Once she seemed to be asleep, he quietly stood and walked out of the cottage back into the grey fog.

“I know that was very hard for you, but you did the right thing, Alistair.”

Alistair whirled around and his eyes got wide, “C-Cailan? What are you doing here?”

Cailan laughed, “Waiting for you of course, brother.” His expression sobered, “I wanted to thank you for being such a good father to Marcail. He’s a wonderful man, thanks to you and Starr. I knew you two were meant to be. I also hoped we might get to know each other better, if you like.” Cailan gazed off into the distance as he waited for Alistair’s answer.

Alistair looked back at the rapidly vanishing cottage, “Good-bye, my love,” he said very quietly. He turned back to Cailan, “I think I’d like that. What are your thoughts on cheese?” The brothers walked away and soon their laughter sounded in the distance.

Zevran felt moisture on his shirt and looked down to see his beloved Starr crying silently in his arms. When he moved to look into her eyes she clung to him and sobbed harder, “He’s dead, Zevran, Stair is dead. I felt him.”

Zevran’s heart broke at the look of utter desolation on her beautiful face. Yet he felt joy that she was back and alive, “I suspected something of the sort. I am sorry bellissima, that you should ever feel such pain. We were worried that you might somehow get stuck in the Fade. Cry as long as you need, Zevran will stay with you.”


	78. Dear Alistair

Zevran was congratulating himself for bringing his beloved Starr to this little island. The house they rented was comfortable, the climate was like that of Antiva and nobody knew who they were. It had been over a year since Alistair died, and his death was even harder on Starr than anybody could have imagined. The bond between the two of them was deeper than the bards’ songs could convey. If it were possible to die of sorrow . . . but things were better now. A few months ago, she was ready to open the door to the future. But, being the still extraordinarily beautiful dowager queen of Ferelden did not make it easy to come out of seclusion unnoticed and able to freely move about Denerim. So, they traveled. He was keeping his promise to Alistair but it was easily the hardest thing he had ever done. They came here two months ago, he hoped that a period of peace and anonymity would allow Starr to breathe and decide what she wanted to do going forward. It was working, too, other than her being a bit moody lately. He had even bought this fine bottle of wine to share, he had hopes . . .

As soon as he stepped inside everything in him went on full alert. He had left his cousin on the little patio enjoying the morning sun. She obviously came inside at some point and began writing in her journal again but something happened. The ink was overturned and the last page had stains from where the ink splattered. Zevran quietly set the bottle down and moved the book away as he listened. He searched the house and didn’t find anyone. Becoming alarmed he went outside but saw nothing, no signs of force, no signs of anybody being carried away. He heard a sob on the wind and followed it to the end of the pier where she was sitting alone, shoulders hunched. Relief washed over him that she was unharmed and sudden anger that she had worried him. He debated what to do and then decided to leave her be. He went inside and cleaned up the ink as best he could. Sighing, he poured himself a large glass of wine. No need to let it go to waste. He wasn’t sure how much more he could stand. Even his patience wasn’t infinite. He eyed her journal, he’d never seen it left out before and he was curious. He told himself, as he picked it up and took it and the wine to a comfortable chair and settled down, that he might find something that would help him help her. _“Braska! Do not lie to yourself, Zevran Arainai, you are simply being a nosy old woman looking out through the curtains,”_ he scolded himself. He turned to the beginning.

_“Emma lath, emma vhenan, emm’Alistair,_

_“You’ve been gone a few weeks now and I still feel a chasm in my heart and numbness in my soul. I should have written before but I didn’t have the strength. Eagerly I go to bed so I can lose myself in dreams of happier times, or even reliving the time we spent together in the Fade. Each morning when I wake sorrow and despair crush me with the weight of Fort Drakon. I go through the motions but I don’t remember who I talk to or what was said. Do I eat? I feel as if the world is nothing but dark grey shapes and shadows, sounds come through a thick fog and I am lost. Why am I here? Do I even want to be found? Tears soak my pillow each night, how can there be so many? Sometimes I think I feel you beside me and turn to say something but you aren’t there. Sometimes I can almost feel you surreptitiously squeezing my bottom when you think no one is looking. You do know that the guards always saw you? Zevran chose them after all, he would only select those with the best powers of observation.”_

Zevran smiled a little at that last line. He could just see his friend turning bright red if he were here. He missed Alistair, too. Starr gave him family and her templar willingly offered friendship and brotherhood. He even missed those awkward attempts at humor. Those days after his death were dark days indeed. And so devastating for his comely cousin. She lost her husband, her lover, her best friend and the person who’d been a major part of her life since she was a small child. He winced as he remembered the hollow look in her eyes, the lifeless movements of her face. She had enough strength to try to hide the depths of her misery from her children and friends, even to be supportive of her children, but she could never hide from him. He skipped forward, he did not want to relive those dark times.

_“My dearest Alistair,_

_“Funny how I write your name in full even though when I think of you it’s always as Stair. I’m at ‘our little place in the country’ with Zevran. And guards and servants. But no courtiers, sycophants or even concerned strangers. Zevran was right when he and Marcail decided coming here would be good. Why is that Antivan right so often? It’s quite frustrating at times. It feels a lot easier to breathe. I certainly have more privacy. I wonder when the local banns will come to call. Zevran estimates I have a few more weeks until the six months after your death is up before they make any approach. He’s probably right about that too. I’ll greet them, we’ll stay another month and then we plan on visiting the different areas of Ferelden. My being in Denerim right now might be a distraction for Marcail, so we’ll act as roving ambassadors, or spies, while allowing him to firmly settle himself in the eyes of Ferelden as the new king. You would be so proud of him, my love. You were right to give him more and more responsibility over the last few years. His transition may be the smoothest in Ferelden history. Or is that just the proud mother speaking?_

“No, bellissima, I think you are correct. Ferelden has been truly fortunate in its recent and current leadership,” Zevran said to himself and continued reading.

_“We were strolling through the woods today and at first I thought I was seeing a ghost. Instead, it was one of Fen’s grandchildren prowling the grounds with his lady and their latest pups. Creators watch over Fen. I sat down and watched them come closer. Zevran refused to sit. He said he came to terms with Fen but he did not have the same relationship with any of his descendants and would keep a watchful distance, thank you very much. I teased him and watched the pups come closer, curious. Their father and I touched noses, and that seemed to release any concerns they had because they started running. I think they thought I was a new toy for their amusement. I laughed as they tumbled over themselves, the sound startling me. It was the first time I’ve truly laughed since you’ve been gone. I didn’t realize I was crying until one of the pups crawled into my lap and licked my tears away. They were cleansing tears, in a way. I miss you, emma lath, but I need to get used to the fact that you are gone and that I have to figure out how I fit in a world without you. But today I played with wolves. I love you, Alistair, emma lath, emma vhenan.”_

Zevran smiled and flipped forward a few more pages. He sneered at the next entry.

_“Alistair, emma lath,_

_“Today we are leaving Highever for Amaranthine and then Denerim. I actually enjoyed all the traveling, especially since as the Dowager Queen or Queen Mother (I cannot believe I am_ Dowager _anything, it is such a strange title) I don’t have nearly the entourage following me as when I was Queen. Even the few times you weren’t with me, I had a much bigger complement of guards and others. We journeyed south to Dragon’s Peak and then Gwaren. Our travels took us to Ostagar. Keeper Lanaya was glad to see us; apparently, relations with the locals were always easier after a royal visit. I even danced with the elves that night. I’m not sure who was more surprised, the Chasind, visiting nobles, the Dalish themselves or my guards!”_

“You were looking positively sexy and radiant, amora. I am sure all were shocked. I was quite delighted, naturally,” Zevran murmured to the absent woman.

_“We visited Orzammar before coming here. King Harrowmont is having difficulties with the nobles, as usual. I think I am the only outsider other than Grey Wardens they let enter since the beginning of the year. I saw Jorund. He hasn’t changed much. Hilse runs the shop with_ her _daughter. Her mother returned to the Stone three years ago._

_“Fergus greeted us pleasantly enough, but it was obvious to me that he is still haunted by his first wife and son. The room they shared is locked, even though he married Bann Alfstanna’s younger sister a few years ago and has three children. He said they were visiting her family, but judging by the distant look on his face I wonder . . . some locals are here this afternoon but maybe at dinner I can get a better understanding of how things are. Elissa worries about him and I want him to be happy. He’s a good man and he was always willing to help you if you wanted it. I know his advice and knowledge enabled us to get some things done with less difficulty than otherwise, including the Ferelden Messenger Service._

_. . . . . . . ._

_“Maker and Creators, that was unexpected. Zevran is angry at me, though he denies it. Can he possibly know? Alistair . . . Stair, I am not quite sure how it happened. Last night Fergus and I were drinking wine in his sitting room. No need for guards in that section of the estate. Even Zevran commented that the only way in was to get past the guards in the hallways outside the family quarters. He excused himself, saying he was sure we had plenty to talk about. The fire was a bit large for the warmth of the evening but still pleasant enough. Fergus talked about Oriana, I talked about you. I started to cry and he put his arms around me to comfort me. I think he was crying, too. Next thing I know, we were kissing and tearing each other’s clothes off. Maker it felt good to be touched again! For a few minutes, we could pretend that you and she weren’t dead. Then it all changed. I, I spent the night with Fergus, in his bed, and I wasn’t pretending anything. I don’t think he was either. Early this morning I crept back to my room for the sake of appearances.”_

Zevran closed his eyes, his suspicions confirmed, nostrils flaring at the images he could see all too clearly. Never one to ignore the unpleasant he continued reading.

_“My love, and never doubt that I love you and will always love you, I came to a decision this morning. I don’t want to be like Fergus, so haunted by a dead love that he finds it hard to connect to his own children. What we had can never be repeated, and it should be valued. However, I will not wrap it around myself like chains or a shroud. I may not be ready to love another tomorrow or the next day, but one day . . . I want to be able to take the opportunity to build something new with someone else. If it never happens, I don’t want it to be because I preferred burying myself in the past. Ashes are cold comfort, emma lath. I’ll keep my memories and treasure them. I want to add to them. Do you understand? Isn’t that what you were trying to tell me in the Fade? I wasn’t ready to listen then, but I think I am now.”_

“Mi amora, you were not meant to hide yourself away from life. Alistair wanted you to find happiness again, he even said as much to me before he died. He loved you so very, very much and would hate for you to cut yourself off from any chance of happiness in a mistaken idea that you would be betraying him. Living your life to the fullest is what would give him joy.” He shook his head and traced the words in that last paragraph. Reflecting back on their leaving Highever, he realized that Elissa’s brother must have come to his own epiphany. He certainly didn’t have any intention of pursuing Starr, but he seemed lighter as if he laid his own ghosts to rest. He even joked about fetching his family back if they didn’t come soon. And for her part, Starr was quite content to leave. There was nothing for her there but an old friend.

Zevran debated whether he should continue reading or not. Some of what he read caused him great pain, but he could also tell she was healing. He realized that after Highever she never wore Alistair’s rose again. She kept it in a box with other keepsakes, but not to wear. And, she wasn’t wearing either of his rings these days. He skipped forward some more.

_“Dear Alistair,_

_“Denerim has been interesting. I don’t really feel I have a place here anymore, though. Marcail has firmly established himself and is well respected. They also like Christine and the new baby Theirin, Alistair Wolf Theirin. I had fun playing grandmother. I saw some old friends at the Landsmeet, including Oswyn. Teagan was there with Bella, both of them looked happy. Elissa and Nathaniel were also present. They still haven’t married and aren’t likely to. They make no secret of their relationship but since Amaranthine goes with the Wardens and Warden-Commander it appears to make no difference. In a strange twist of fate, his nephew Thomas is courting our daughter. If not courting then he certainly is pursuing a friendship with her. I met him. I think you would like him. He’s a few months younger but has a good head on his shoulders and I think would be a good balance for our daughter the scholar. Aaron seems happy to be Marcail’s liaison in different matters that come up. He is proving to be as adept and subtle as his godfather._

_“Duncan approached me about the Grey Wardens. Alistair, I don’t know if I did the right thing. He said he was thinking of joining the Order and wanted my thoughts. I told him that you thought it was an honorable choice and a difficult one. I suggested that he wait until he was thirty, that if he was still interested at that time he would still be young enough to do so. Stair, I also told him that if he wanted to have a family, or even keep that option open he should wait to join. That you were the rare exception by becoming a father after the Joining. I also reminded him that you were a Grey Warden only twenty-two years and that he couldn’t expect more than an additional five to ten years more than that. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but he’s our son and I wanted him to know something. He promised to at least think about it. I also told him that there was no reason he couldn’t serve the Wardens as part of the auxiliary force at Amaranthine in the meantime._

_“Umm, I decided to put my rings, your rings, in my mementos box with your rose and other special items. It’s time, my love, for me to move forward. Oswyn finds me attractive and I have to admit that I enjoyed speaking with him earlier. The Landsmeet is done and most of the nobles have returned to their estates. We’re meeting at the Gnawed Noble Tavern for dinner. In a way, I feel like I’m acting like the fifteen year old I never was. If I had had a normal life I would have met boys at social events, there might have been public and chaperoned outings to determine if we would suit. Of course, I’m not fifteen. This is a situation completely new to me. I don’t know what the rules are, but I have to believe that wearing one man’s rings while dining with another is on the not-to-do list. The worst that could happen is a nice dinner with an old friend, right?”_

Zevran shook his head at that. His cousin could still be shockingly naïve. He remembered her time with Oswyn very well. There were more than a few dinners, and he knew they enjoyed a physical relationship but they were both discreet. He remembered the last time she came back to the palace from one of their ‘dinners.’ He asked, hoping the jealousy didn’t show in his voice, when they were next to meet. Her reply was crystal clear, “Oswyn will always be a dear friend and we’ve enjoyed each other’s company immensely. But,” she turned away from him at that point, “we both realize that the other is not what we are looking for in any sort of deeper or long term relationship.” He still hadn’t figured out why she turned away from him. Was she trying to hide a deeper hurt, or something else?

He finally turned to the last entry. _“Oh Alistair, darling, wonderful Alistair, it is time for me say goodbye. You helped make me the person I am today. You were my hero and later my love. And now, I need to close your chapter so I can begin the next one._

_“I’m in love. He doesn’t know and I need to figure out how to tell him. I’m so scared and nervous that I will mess this up. Maybe I should start slowly, let him know in little ways that I care about him. It will be beyond awkward if he doesn’t return my feelings. I needed to be sure. Sure for both of us that this is what I want. In a way Oswyn and Bevin paved the way, allowing me to explore my needs and knowing that I was ready to fully commit to the right person.”_

Zevran was agitated when he put the book down here, _“Who is this person? And what is this about Bevin? I didn’t know about this, though perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. He has been infatuated with her for years.”_ He picked up the journal one more time and was surprised at what he read.

_“Zevran has been so good to me this past seventeen months. Surely, another man would have been less patient. How odd to realize that the person I want in my next chapter has been there all along. Did I just not see? Or was I just not ready to see? I know he loves me, I_ am _his beloved cousin. But is there more or have I waited too long? I wish I”_

The rest was covered in ink. Zevran closed the book slowly. For more than twenty years, he had been in love with Starrelena Feyorlin. And if Alistair hadn’t been his friend as well as a good man who made her happy, he would have said something a long time ago. Fate was ever the tricky whore. Now he just needed to find out what upset his beloved and they could get on with _their_ life together.

He stood up and placed the journal on the table. He grabbed another glass and went into his room. If all went well they would drink and pursue other interesting activities tonight. He had been waiting a long time. He took off his clothes and got comfortable.

Starr came in shortly afterwards. Seeing the ink had been cleaned up, she knew Zevran had been back. Not seeing him she called out, “Zevran?”

“Ah, amora, I have this fine wine I wish to share with you. I am afraid I have a bit of a head start,” he called out from his room. “Come join me and I shall pour you a glass. You won’t regret it.”

Starr took a deep breath and pulled a pouch out of her pocket. She went into Zevran’s room, “This came for you while you were gone. The man who delivered it . . .” her voice trailed off when she saw Zevran. He was completely naked. Her eyes traveled over his still lithe form, the tanned skin and the tattoos. Especially the tattoos so interestingly placed. When he grew under her stare the tattoos accentuated the length and breadth displayed. She wasn’t aware that she was licking her suddenly dry lips.

Zevran was well pleased with her reaction and sauntered towards her with two glasses of wine. “Come, madonna, let us drink to a long future together, if this pleases you.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes locked on his, “Won’t your girlfriend be upset with you? The man who delivered this,” she held out the pouch, “was quite effusive about how much you must care about her to special order something so exquisite. Have I been so selfish by keeping you away from somebody you care about?”

Zevran carefully set the wine on the nearest surface and took the pouch from her hands, _“This is why she was upset,”_ he opened the pouch and took out a ring. It used to be an earring but he had it refashioned into a ring with additional gemstones to match the changing colors of his beloved’s eyes. He took her hand in his and returned her gaze as he slipped it onto her finger, “There has never been anyone but you, amora. I will not lie and say I have been chaste; a person has needs, after all. But my heart has been yours for more than twenty years, my celestial Starr. Recently I began to hope we might be together. Am I wrong?”

The pain of the last few hours was wiped away as if it had never been. She smiled radiantly as she answered, “No, you are not wrong. I would like that very much.” When he kissed her, she knew the next chapter was definitely begun. She stopped him when he began undressing her. Blushing, she blurted out, “Zevran, I, I’m not the same as I was. I hope you’re not disappointed.” She bit her lip as she waited for his answer.

Surprised he stopped what he was doing and searched her face. Realizing she was serious, he answered her by putting both his hands on either side of her face and kissing her gently, reverently. “Bellissima, I have changed as well. The human body is beautiful in many shapes and sizes, not just in its youth. Did your Oswyn or Bevin mind?”

Starr shook her head, “No, but they weren’t imp-” Realizing what he said her eyes grew wide, “You knew about Bevin? It was just the one time and . . . never mind. I’ll just stop talking.”

“What an excellent notion,” and he kissed her to make sure of it. He tantalized her with kisses and caresses as he removed her clothes. His appreciative murmurs dispelled any reservations she might still have about her appearance. They explored each other all night long. For Zevran, it was the fruition of everything he ever wanted. For Starr it was an exciting new beginning. Zevran was right about the wine; it was delicious even when sipped from a glass.


	79. A Promise Kept

Marcail stood in the middle of his mother’s house holding his baby sister while she grieved. He looked around the house where his mother and Zevran lived for almost two decades. A few months earlier Zevran did the unthinkable for an assassin. He died peacefully of old age. Linelle was devastated, much as she loved her mother she doted on her father. He was her best friend and taught her the many ways of his craft. She was such a delicately beautiful combination of her parents. She had Zevran’s amber eyes with their wicked gleam, his lithe build and devious intelligence. From Starr she had hair of moonlight lightly kissed by the sun, a warm smile and a more slender version of their mother’s curves. Fortunately for every man in her future, she also had their mother’s compassion, integrity and lack of vanity.

And now Starr was dead. Her ashes smoldered in the workshop down the hill away from the house. Marcail could see the words from his mother’s letter painfully and forever engraved on his mind:

_“Dear Marcail,_

_No mother could be prouder of a child than I am of you and your brothers and sisters. I needed to make sure you understand how very much I love you all and how blessed I am that your fathers were good men. You see, when you read these words I will already be dead. . . .”_

Her letter went to talk about darkspawn washing up on the beach and she killed them but not before getting cut and contracting the Blight disease. Her life had been full and few women ever loved as she had been by Alistair and Zevran. She asked him to watch over his baby sister, even suggesting that Linelle live in the house left to her by Sanga and Oskar. The last words she wrote were that she loved them all and that they shouldn’t forget to take the time to be happy and to embrace life. Lessons she learned from the two men she loved and married.

Marcail kissed the top of Linelle’s head much as he might comfort his own daughter and then opened the brandy. He poured glasses for all of them and handed them round, “To our mother. A woman of courage and strength, who touched many lives and was more loved by more people than I think she realized. Her husbands adored her and their love was returned by her tenfold. To Mom.” They all had tears in their eyes as they drank to an extraordinary woman.

Duncan pulled up some chairs while Aaron lit the fire laid in the hearth. Their mother’s journals were already packed up for the trip back to Denerim. None of them felt like reading them yet. Eleanor spoke next, “I used to envy her when I was young; she was so incredibly beautiful. During one of our arguments when I was still a girl, I told her a boy I met was more interested in her than he ever could be in me. She looked at me as if I had two heads. Even though Dad and Zevran, among others, told her so, I don’t think she realized how beautiful she was. Beauty just radiated from her.” Her brothers and sister nodded in agreement. Eleanor looked at her little sister and thought that possibly the same thing could be said of her.

Marcail started to snicker, “I remember at some of the Court functions Dad looked like he had a headache coming on. So many of the men would surround her and try to monopolize her time, dancing and flirting with her. He said Teagan told him it was one of the dangers of being in love with a beautiful woman. He was very proud of her and said they had no idea just how beautiful she really was because they didn’t know her, they just saw the surface.”

“I don’t think many people realize the Ferelden Messenger Service was actually her idea instead of Dad’s,” Aaron spoke up. “Fereldans were happy enough that she was a good queen. She gave them, not Dad mind you but Ferelden, heirs to the throne, she supported Dad, she wasn’t a spendthrift or a shrew, and she fought for Ferelden. And she gave Fereldan women an identity other nations could admire. In my travels, I’ve seen many women from other nations adopting her look. It’s a bit harder to dismiss our women for being different or too masculine when _their_ women are dressing like _our_ queen.”

“Don’t forget the troubles with the Circles. Dad told me she read the entire Chant of Light while she was pregnant with us, even the Dissonant verses. I bet even you would have found that boring, Eleanor,” Duncan teased his sister. “Neither the templars nor the Chantry could quote the Chant to support their position without her being able to counter or question the meaning. Dad may have trained as a templar before he became a Grey Warden but he never felt the mages were fairly treated. It’s so much better for mages here in Ferelden than almost anywhere. I don’t see why other countries don’t see the connection between our treatment of mages and the lower incidence of blood magic or mages run amok. Thank the Maker that disaster in Kirkwall didn’t spill over here, at least not too much.” Duncan, now the Commander General of the Ferelden army, thought how much better prepared his troops were with at least one healer and one other mage assigned to each platoon. Of course that meant a templar or templar-trained warrior also had to be assigned, but even the First Enchanter insisted on that precaution.

Silence once again fell over the brothers and sisters as they struggled with their grief and their memories. The fire was subsiding into embers when Eleanor broke the silence, “One of my favorite stories is actually about you, Linelle. Anders loved telling the story of how the great assassin fainted dead to the floor when he found out Mom was pregnant.”

Linelle laughed in disbelief, “You’ve got to be kidding, _my_ father fainted? The man who taught me poisons and the most efficient and silent ways to kill with a dagger? He fainted?”

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. Whenever Anders brought it up Zev would say it was a ruse in order to be in the mage’s magically muscular arms and then Mom would poke him in mock-jealousy,” Aaron smiled at the memory. Soon they were all telling their favorite stories of Starr and Zevran and Alistair.

The evening wore on and the siblings dozed off at different times. At one point Marcail wandered outside and looked up at the sky. He heard crying and looked around to see Linelle. He went to her, put his arms around her, and let her cry, “What am I going to do now, Marc? I miss them so much.” She sobbed into his shirt.

When her tears slowed and she was calmer Marcail pointed to the sky, “See that star? It’s our star. When Mom went to fight at Ostagar and later to help the Wardens she picked out that star. Every night, wherever she was and wherever I was we would search the sky until we found it. She called it starmail. She told me when I saw that star I would know she loved me and was thinking of me and that she missed me. I believe that somewhere, maybe in the Fade, her spirit knows and she is sending her love to us. Even though I’m not a little boy anymore, if I’m upset I look for our star and I feel better. So when you’re missing her or Zevran, he and Alistair also knew of the star, just look up into the sky and remember how much they love you.” Linelle smiled at the thought and kept her gaze on their mother’s star.

Marcail finally made a suggestion, “Why don’t you come to Denerim? You have a house to live in and Aaron thinks you might be a good roving investigator for the FMS[1]. You’re smart and can think quickly on your feet. Certainly all the skills Mom and Zevran taught you are a great background for the position. You would have to stay in Denerim while you trained and a partner was found for you, but then you would be traveling and meeting all different sorts of people. Aaron has a strict policy of no new investigator going out alone. He says all the training in the world can’t completely prepare you for working in the field. Some investigators eventually work alone and others are more effective in pairs. You can decide what you want to do about your home here later.”

Linelle considered the possibilities he was offering and then looked up at her big brother the king, “I think I’d like that. Mom always said I had my father’s desire for adventure. Maybe it’s time to find out.” The oldest and youngest siblings stood companionably in the cool night air thinking their own thoughts.

 

**********************************************

 

He was in a field picking flowers for his best friend and lover. This time, she wasn’t met by grey mist all around her; she saw a beloved figure with sun-gold hair approaching her. He handed her the bouquet of flowers and gently caressed the side of her face, “I promised I would wait for you, emma lath.” Smiling, she took his hand and together they walked away towards whatever came next. Gradually the meadow faded.

For just a minute, Marcail thought he heard his mother’s laughter mixed with that of Alistair’s. He shook his head and wondered.

 

The End

 

[1] FMS = Ferelden Messenger Service


End file.
